The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 233: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

eng rte reer 223/) TUE MYSTERIES. described. The carriage which had brought Hleanor and the Duchess of Devonshire to Chan- cery Lane belonged to the former: she and Miss Plantagenet accordingly entered the vehicle, which drove rapidly away towards the West End. “Whither can I have the pleasure of taking you ?” inquired the Countess, when she and her young companion were ensconced side by side in the luxurious carriage. “Do not allow any consideration on my account to interfere with your ladyship’s arrangements,” said Miss Plantagenet. “T have no arrangements fixed for this morning —unless indeed it be to call in the Edgware Road,” observed the Countess. “It is somewhat early to pay such a visit; but as Iam very intimate with the lady to whose residence I am about to proceed, the time of day matters little. If you feel disposed to accompany me, Miss Plantagenet, I shall be glad of your society—and the carriage will then be at your service to take you to your own abode.” “ ¥ shall experience much pleasure in accom- panying your ladyship,” replied Miss Plantagenet. The Countess of Desborough accordingly pulled the check-string and ordered the coachman to drive to Bellenden Priory, Edgeware Road. The vehicle rolled rapidly along ; and during the half- hour which elapsed ere it stopped, Eleanor and her young companion conversed upon those gene- ral topics which could alone engage the attention of two persons who were almost strangers to each other. But though thus strangers, yet a certain degree of cordiality, if not a positive intimacy, at once sprang up between the Countess and Miss Plantagenet: inasmuch as the former looked upon the latter as the cousin of her own dearest and best friend, the Duchess of Devonshire. Presently the carriage stopped at Bellenden Priory; and while the footman dismounted from behind the vehicle and rang the bell at the gate, Miss Plantagenet surveyed the large rambling edi- fice with some degree of attention from the window of the vehicle. “It is a strange old building,” remarked the Countees ; “ but very handsomely fitted-up within. Have you ever been here defore ?” “ Never,” replied Miss Plantagenet. “I have however heard a great deal relative to the Mar- chioness of Bellenden and her law-suit with the Montgomery family. But I have never seen her ladyship—at least, not to my knowledge——” “You will find her an amiable, unassuming, kind- hearted woman,” observed the Countess of Des- borough. “She lives in a comparatively strict se- clusion: but my husband and myself are amongst the few friends who enjoy her intimacy.” At this moment the garden gate was opened by a porter in plain livery; and the Countess of Des- borough alighted from the carriage, followed by Miss Plantagenet. Traversing the garden, which was laid out in a beautifully picturesque style, they reached the front entrance—ascended the marble ateps—and were conducted by the domestic into & spacious hall surrounded by suis of armour, antique vases, and statues. A splendid staircase, with oaken ballusters magnificently carved, led to a landing ornamented with porcelain jars filled with curious artificial flowers; and thence opened the drawirg-room into which the Countess of Des- borough and Miss Plantagenet were shown. The Marchioness of Bellenden, who was alone in the apartment when the visitresses were un- nounced, rose from the sofa and hastened for- ward to welcome Lady Desborough in the kindest manner: but the instant that she threw her cyes upon Miss Plantagenet, she started visibly—then bowed hastily and distantly—and, turning abruptly away, conducted the Countess to a seat. Eleanor did not observe this little excitement—. or rather transitory flurry —on the part of the Marchioness: but Miss Plantagenet did, and was evidently much surprised thereat. Indeed, as this mysterious young lady took a seat of her own ac- cord, she murmured to herself, “ The Mar- chioness cannot possibly suspect who I am—for I never saw her before in all my life, to my know- ledge; and it is scarcely probable that she should know me !” “I really quite forgot to introduce my young friend to you, Laura!” exclaimed the Countess of Desborough: “but you will pardon the oversight, which was occasioned by the pleasure I experienced in seeing you after some weeks’ separation. Miss Plantagenet—a cousin of the Duchess of Devon- shire——_” “Miss Plantagenet is welcome as your friend, Eleanor,” said the Marchioness of Bellenden, in whose tone and manner there was evidently some- thing which implied mistrust or suspicion, or else pure annoyance at the introduction of a stranger to the Priory: but immediately subduing the sen- timent, whatever it were, her ladyship threw upon Miss Plantagenet a benignant smile, observing, “You are welcome to the Priory: and if I did not give you that assurance the moment you entered the room, it was because the almost recluse-like retirement in which I live renders me slew in greeting new-comers until I learn who they are.” Miss Plantagenet gave a graceful inclination of the head in acknowledgment of these explanatory remarics ; and the Marchioness of Bellenden, turn- ing towards Lady Desborough, said, “I have not seen you since Stamford Manor came into your possession. How do you like your new pro- perty ?” ‘Very much, so far as the house and grounds are concerned,” replied the Countess: “bat the associations are gloomy and dispiriting. You must remember that it was within those walls the un- fortunate and guilty Lady Stamford put a period to her own existence——” “Qh! but you possess too strong a mind, Eleanor,” exclaimed the Marchioness, “to be in- fluenced by superstitious terrors.” “Still there are feelings of horror and dread which will grow upon us at times, even if we put no faith in apparitions,” observed the Countess. “But generally speaking, both the Earl and my- self are well pleased with our new estate. And now tell me, dear Laura, how progresses your own law-suit—and likewise that affair of the deserving young artist, Mr. George Woodfall——” “Not a word upon either subject at present— not a syllable!” exclaimed the Marchioness of Bellenden, with an excitement which evidently amazed the Countess of Desborough as being something so unusual on the part of one whose habitual manner was so serene, tranquil, and be- nignant. “You cannot fancy, my dear Laura,” observed ECONnniiclooolkKs