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Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 193 of 400

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The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 193: Penny Dreadfuls, 1850

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182 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. spot where Marchmont had been discovered in a senseless condition. But Madame Angelique made not the slightest allusion to the words which the Duke had so unconsciously spoken in the carriage, when gradually arousing from a state of insensi- bilit “The fact is,” eaid the Duke, after he had ex- pressed his thanks to the ex-milliner for all ber kindness, as well as for the prudential caution which she had used in respect to his name, “I took out my purse to give that ruffian relicf—in the twinkling of an eye did he knock me from my horse—I remembered nothing more until I found myself seated by your side in the carriage. My purse, my watch, my rings are gone-——” “I felt assured you had been robbed,” said Ma- dame Angelique, “when in the carriage I noticed that there was not any jewellery about your per- son. But tell me, my lord—was there not some- thing strange about that man—that villanous- looking Lascar ?” “There might be,” said the Dukedryly. “You have a beautifal place here——I intended to come and call upon you———I did not exactly know where your habitation was situated—and little did I suspect just now that I was pessing my old friend Madame Angelique’s carriage,” added his Grace, with a familiar smile. The ex-milliner saw that the Duke did not wish to be questioned in respect to the Lascar, and she therefore said not another word upon the subject. There were other topics which she also avoided— although she might have touched upon them; for the presence of the Duke had conjured them up to her memory. She might have intimated her suspicion that he was not altogether a stranger to the murderous attempt on the life of Sagoonah at Bayswater: but Madame Angelique beheld no utility in discussing soch matters; and moreover she had hoped, when retiring from her own equi- vocal avocations, that she might entirely wash her hands of all the perilous intrigues and machinations into which she had at one time been led by the Duke of Marchmont. “I do not wish this little affair to become bruited abroad,” ssid his Grace, thus alluding to his ad- venture with the ferocious Lascar. “It is trouble- some to have the police set to work—and all that sort of thing.” “Nothing need transpire,” answered Madame Angelique: “I will tell my domestics that you are a Mr. Cavendish—or Fitsherbert—or some other fashionable name—end that as you are immediately going on the Continent, you do not think it worth while to delay your departure for the purpose of causing @ pursuit, which perhaps may prove in- effectual, to be instituted after the ruffian Lescar.” Tbe Duke thanked Madame Angelique for her readiness in managing the matter according to his inclination; and under the name of Mr. Caven- dish he remained to°dine with her. By about nine o’clock in the evening his Grace was so perfectly recovered as to be enabled to mount his horse and ride home to Belgrave Square. CHAPTER CxXX. THE LATHAMS. Tire seene of this narrative shifts toa large and very handsome suburban mansion, situated at Balham Hill. This thriving district, in a con- venient vicinage of the metropolis, promises to be- come completely fashionable, and to acquire « reputation on that score equal to Clapham. Tudor House-—-the mansion of which we are speaking—was situated in the midat of grounds, which had however been too recently laid out for perfect beauty, but which were nevertheless sufficiently attractive. Indeed, it was quite evi- dent that no expense had been spared upon either the mansion or the grounds, by Sir Frederick Latham, the owner of the property. This gentle- man was about fifty years of age—a partner in one of the most eminent mercantile firms im the City of London; and he was exceedingly rich. Tbe house to which he belonged had enjoyed oppor- tunities of rendering, at various times, financial services to the Government; and thus, while a Peerage was conferred upon the senior partner, a Baronetcy was bestowed upon the second. This was how Sir Frederick Latham obtained the title which he now He had somewhat recently married the daughter of a noble but impoverished family,—a Ledy in her own right: and thus his wife enjoyed the pri- vilege of prefixing her Christian to ber surname on all oceasions—which will ascount for the fact of her being styled Lady Anastatia Latham. She was about one-and-twenty years of age and very beautiful. It was not however beauty alone which characterised her: there was something singularly interesting in the expression of her countenance as well as softly winning and unstudiously fascinating in her manners. Her features were regular, her nose being perfectly straight, the forehead not too high to be dissimilar from the style of beauty de- fined by the Grecian statues; while her brows were superbly arched and well divided: thus giving aa open frankness to the whole countenance. Her eyes were large and of a deep blue, full of a soft lustre, which seldom indeed concentrated itself in the lightning-flash of strong passion, bat shining with that sorene steadiness and evenness which seemed to indicate the goodness, and gentleness, end benevolence of her disposition. About the south there was a singular beauty, not merely in its chi- selling but also in ite expression. Its formatioa was purely classical in respect to the upper lip, which was arched like Cupid’s bow: the under lip was faller and richer, but without conveying the slightest impression of sensucusness on the part of Anastatia. Her bair was of a rich brown; and ot euch luxuriance was it—with so superb a gices toe resting upon the surface—that it was no wonder if she generally wore it without any ornaments either of gems or flowers, but as if conecious that it be- came her best in the unadorned wealth of its own natural loveliness. In heavy tresses and in mas- sive clusters did it float upon her shoulders, and form as it were a background for a neck of damuling whiteness: for Anastatia’s complexion was sweetly pure and transparent. She was tall and well- formed,—the contours of the Hebe combining with COMME OOO SS} (CO