The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 283: what you’re looking at

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

272 Manor recorded that this suite of apartments had been inhabited by Hannah Lightfoot, the Quaker- eas, during her sojourn there about thirty-seven years previously to the time of which we are writing. It was into these rooms that Lady Desborough now made her way ;— and in the drawer of 2 piece of farniture in the parlour did she conceal the pis- toland dagger. She then descended the staircase —passed out into the garden by the door at the bottom—and took the key with her. This she placed in the cup which a statue of the God of Wine, standing on a pedestal near the garden-gate, held in its hand. Lastly she took away the key of the garden-gate itself, so that it might not be locked as usual after dusk. These arrangements having been accomplished, the Countess of Desborough walked in the garden and the shrubbery, to court the solitade which was .| now most congenial to her soul She thought on many, many things—but principally the event of the approaching evening;—and as her mind was active in its painful meditations, the time passed by more rapidly than it usually does in hours of anx- lety, nervousness, and sorrow. At five o’clock she re-entered the mansion, and procesded to her own room to dress for dinner. The apparel she chose was elegant and tasteful: it was white watered silk beautifully trimmed with lace looped up with roses. Although her complexion was olive, yet was it so transparent and delicate in its tinge of bistre, that it was by no means unsuited for that white drees ;—and as the excitement of her mind had d upon her cheeks the rich carnation hue that glowed through the diaphanous skin, the general effect was captivating in the extreme. Her hair, soft as silk and of velvet blackness, hung in massive tresses upon her polished shoulders ;—and the low corsage of the dress revealed sufficient of the well-proportioned bust to show that it retained all the roundness and freshness of youth. For be it remem- bered that Lady Desborough was only in her twenty- ninth year; and at that age a woman of well- charms is in all the glory of her beauty. A wreath of white roses set off the sable darkness and raven glossiness of her hair; and the ornaments that clasped the arms, which were naked to the shoulders, assisted to display their admirable sym- metry by outlining their modelled roundness. Allto- gether the Countess of Desborough appeared on the present occasion to an advantage which rendered her a woman for whom the misanthrope would consent to live, and for whom the chivalrous champion would hesitate not to die. When the dinner was served up at six o’clook, the Earl was somewhat surprised to behold the more than usual care which his beauteous wife had evidently be- stowed upon her toilette, considering that they were alone together. For although Eleanor invariably dressed with a richness becoming her position and an elegance in accord with her refined taste, yet she was | not accustomed to appear in the vesture suited to a grand party when there was no company to receive | at all But she ed to observe “ that she thought ' it not unlikely friends the Duke and Duchess | of Devonshire would visit the Manor in the evening, as she believed they had intended to leave London that morning in order to pass a few days at their ville ia the neighbourhood.” Thie exeuse—and an invented one it really was— iat 2a R= THE MYSTERIES. appeared quite natural to the Earl, who was more- ~ over too proud of his splendid Countess to think of being dissatisfied at any unusual carefulnese of toi- lette which had the eflect of enhancing the glory of her charms, The dinner passed—the dessert was placed upon the table—and Eleanor partook of a glass or two of wine, which increased the animation that mental ex- citement had imparted to her cheeks. She remained conversing with the Ear! until about half-past eight ; —aend then she retired to her own chamber, while he withdrew to the library. When alone in her bed-room, the Countess looked in the mirror and saw that the carnation had desp- ened upon her cheeks and that the fire of her eyes was more than ordinarily lastrous. Indeed, she sould not fail to observe that she was brilliantly beautifal on this occasion;—and she now began to regret that she had taken so much pains to enhance the natural effect of her loveliness by the auxiliaries of the toi- lette. Let not the reader, however, imagine that it was art which had shed the hue of the carnation upon her cheek: no—’twas the natural bloom of vigorous health which the wine had deepened mto a raddier glow. But we said that she regretted the pains she had taken to_set off the brilliancy of her charms to the ut- most advantage. Yes—she regretted it now that the dreaded moment was approaching: for might net Philip Ramsey be tempted by her appearance to pass the bounds of that reverential discretion and respectful forbearance which he had promised to ob- servef Ah! if he dared, had she not provided weapons wherewith to defend herself ?—and was she not resolved to usa them in a case of emergency, at all cisks and in defiance of all consequences~ Aye —and had she not nerved herself by means of the stimulating influence of wiue, to play the part of a heroine, if need should bef As these reflections traversed her mind, the mo- mentary regret was dissipated:—and in its place arose a feeling of satisfaction to think that she had fulfilled ker portion of the compact to the very letter, and was therefore fully justified in demanding a similar fidelity to the agreement on Ais part. She had done as he had desired ; she had arrayed herself in her most becoming apparel—and there would conse- quently be no pretext for another meeting—no ex- cuse on his part for demanding another inter- view. Thus do we find this noble lady faithful to the terms which had been imposed upon her, and which she had as the condition of Ramsey’s bidding her farewell for ever. We shall presently sec how far she was justified in placing any reliance upon the solemnly-pledged oath of that man whom she had once loved with all the ardour of a worship and all the frenzy of an infatuation. She looked at her watch—it wanted five minutes to nine. Satisfying herself that the note which she had written in the afterncon was safe in her bosom, the Countess of Desborough summoned al! ber courage to her aid, and proceeded along the passage to the parlour where she had appointed to meet Rameey. She carried in her hands the two wax- candles which belonged to her own bed-chamber; and upon entering the room, she carefully closed the shutters and drew the curtains, that the light should not be observed from without. Then she looked to ascertain that the loaded pistol and the AOOLK co