The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

“—. > Es fae Pe, 240 TRE MYSTERI Ra. aervants came forth from the gate, bearing amongst them what appeared to be the inanimate form of a female. The foremost domestic instantaneously cried out to the footman in attendance upon Lady Desborough’s carriage, ‘ Here ! you are to drive quick to Lord Florimel’s, Piccadilly, and then return to fetch the Countess.’ — While thus speaking, the domestic opened the carriage door and was about to have you thrust ruthlessly in, all insensible as you were, when I sprang forward at the mention of your name. Yes—it was indeed you—you, my own handsome, well-beloved Gabriel! Reckless of what the servants might think, and not even pausing to reflect or ascertain whether they knew who you were or fancied you were really a lady, I claimed you as a cousin. Cousin, you know, applies to either sex; and so [ could not be wrong. You were forthwith thrust into my carriage instead of Lady Desborough’s—‘twas all the work of an in- stant—and, with your dear head pillowed on my bosom, you were whirled hither in a state of con- tinued anconsciousness. Now you know all, Gabriel —except that I have been very unhappy on your account,” added the invisible but not impalpable syren, her voice sinking into accents of the ten- derest pathos. “But, thank heaven! you are beyond all danger now—indeed you are convales- cent—and I am truly happy once more!” “ Ah! my dearest friend—my kind-hearted, ex- cellent, adorable nurse,” exclaimed Florimel, as he drew the lady towards him, -“how deep is the debt of gratitude which I owe you! The proofs of sincere and disinterested affection which you have given me in this instance, have touched me profoundly — Oh! profoundly, profoundly,” he added, with a deliberate emphasis, as he strained to his breast that glowing form which he had caught in his arms. We need hardly repeat that the chamber was as dark as if there were no windows at all. The lady was standing by the bed-side: she was cladin a loose vesture—a mere morning wrapper negli- gently fastened at the waist with a band. Her feet were thrust into slippers: her hair was flowing dishevelled over her shoulders. Even in the midst of that utter darkness did a species of knowledge of her superb charms glimmer up intuitively, and expand into a thrilling conviction, in the soul of Lord Florimel, as he threw his arms around her meck and held her in a bending posture over him, with her bosom heaving against his chest, her cheek pillowed upon his own, and their lips meet- ing in frequent kisses. Not that he could form any positive idea of the actual appearance of his unknown charmer—much less be enabled to recognise her should they meet hereafter in the public street: he knew not, for instance, the colour of her hair, the hue of her eyes, or the expression of her countenance ;—and thus the principal indications, indeed the main guides, te the recognition of an individual were entirely wanting. But that she was handsome, he had no doubt: his hand had already, during their different interviews, passed a dozen times over her features and acquired the certainty that such was the fact. That she was splendidly formed, was even still more satisfactorily ascertained, — the sculptural richness, the fine contours, and the wentle inflections of the figure, being more easily traced by the sense of touch only, than the confi- guration of the countenance. Yes—essuredly ane was handsome—gloriously handsome—and grandly formed, with Diana-like proportions !—and more. over, there emanated from her whole person, as it were, a perfume of love and an effluence of soft voluptuousness which intoxicated the sense, while the sauvity of her manner and the tender musie of her voice stole with the engrossing power of an eesthetic rapture upon the spirit. Ah! dangerous woman: even in the cimmerian darkness wherewith she enveloped her- self, but in the midst of which the imagination still depicted her glowing with light and brilliant as a goddess, did she exercise a power too well calou- lated to enslave the heart around which she cast her spells! , . And as she lay thus half-reclining upon the breast of her noble young paramour, the thought gradually began to take birth and expand in his imagination, to the effect that such as this splendid Unknown seemed to be, the Marchioness of Bel- lenden doubtless must be. In a word, Florimei began to compare the charms which were now in such close and exciting contact relative to himself, with those which his fancy conjectured might be concealed beneath the widow's-weeds worn by the Marchioness. The Unknown was tall and slightly iuclined to embonpoint, with a bust of the most vo- luptuous proportions: so was the Marchioness. The Unknown was assuredly possessed of splendid teeth: so was the Marchioness. Ah! but why does Florimel pause here ?—why does the com- parison, or rather the attempt at identification, abruptly stop? Because he is suddenly struck by the folly of attempting to push the task any farther, — inasmuch as although he knows the colour of Lady Bellenden’s hair and eyes, the precise hue of her lips, the tint of her complexion, and the expression cf her countenance,—yet he is utterly ignorant on all those points in respect to the Unknown! And there were so many women of splendid forms, tall stature, and luxuriant charms, in the circle of his acquaintance, that because the Un- known was of that description of beauty, he might just as well identify her with the Duchess of Devon- shire, or Mrs. Harvey Aston, or the Countess of Jersey, or even the Princess Sophia, or the Prin. cess Amelia, or Lady Letitia Lade,—he might as well identify his Unknown with any one of these, we say, a3 with the Marchioness of Bellenden. Besides, the hypothesis was contradicted by fifty other circumstances. Was it probable that a wo- man of the strictest seclusion and of eternal widow- hood, was the visitress at masquerades ?—was it possible that the serene, tranquil, and benevolent recluse was the lascivious divinity of that volup- tuous boudoir?—could Lady Belleden entertain any serious notion of marrying him, if he were so inclined? — and how could she possibly exercise the slightest influence ovtr that law-suit which threatened him with ruin? No—no: it was pre- posterous;—the attempt to identify the pure- minded, solitade-loving, even prudish Marchioness with the Unknown whose passions were so frenetic and whose conduct was so incomprehensible—such an attempt, we say, Lord Florimel suddenly aban- doned as being ridiculous to a degree! “I can guess what is passing in your mind, you silly fellow,” whispered the Unknown, after a pause ee el ElOOO® SS