The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 237: what you’re looking at

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

“> WwW all 0 CHAPTER CXXVIIL THE STBTHOSOOPE. Ws must now retarn to that Chateau in the south of France, where Lady Octavian Meredith had for some while been Staying with M. Volney anid his daughter Clarine. The reader will not have for- gotten the many ex incidents which were revealed to Zoo's knowledge at that Chateau, —how M. Volney had, long years back, amidst the wild sublimities of Alpine scenery, the life of the author of his dishonour—ang@ how Alfed Delorme, the son of that murdered victim, had been led by a variety of ciroumstances to bestow lis love upon Clarine. It was through Zo¢s representa- tions, be it likewise remembered, simé M. Voiney had finally assented to the uniog of his | with the young Viscount Delorme: but he resotved that immediately after the peidal he would repaix to some far-off spot,—there to bury himself end his sorrows, as well as mainder of his exis But to Zoe only was M. Volney’s dreadful secret communicated : Clarine remained in perfect ignorance of the stupendous crime that aaé upon her father’s soy: while Alfred Delorme was equally far from puspecting that the father of her whom he syed and wooed, was his own deceased sire’s mu ° On the night whey AMeed Delorme’s p in the Chatedu was » be hed | thither ina fit of utter desperation, to obtein en interview with Cidrine that he might-induce her to revoke the decision she had conveyed to him in the letter she had pembed to old ite’s dic- tation. the exereise of the prudence-end caution previously observed in his stealthy visite to the chateau ; and thus was his presenee detected. Bat, after all, the incident was a fortunate one, inasmuch as it brought about the denduement we have already described ; and on the morning after that eventful night, Alfred Delorme repaired to the chateau to learn M. Volney’s decision. It wae given; and he beheld himself the acknowledged suitor for the hand of Clarine. M. Volney proposed that the bridal should be celebrated with the least possible delay; and this wae a proposition to which the young cougile were by no means likely to offer any objection. . A fortnight passed ; and Alfred Delorme was a daily visitor at the Chateau. M. Volney had a difficult as' well as painful part to play. Zoe-com- prehended it: she could not help | him— but she regarded it as a portion of that chastise- ment which heaven decreed that he should expe- rience in this world for the crime he had ecom- mitted. In order to avoid the suspicion that he any longer objected to the marriage of his daugh- ter with that young nobleman—in order likewise to avoid throwing a damp upon the spirits of the loving couple—M. Volney forced himself to be frequently in their society; so that he was now more in the sitting-room and less in his own study than was his wont at any sted during his residence at the Chateeu. But what efforts it cost him to look Alfred Delorme calmly in the face—to meet the looks of him whom his own hand had rendered fatherless ! presence | P penstrated THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. A fortnight had passed, we said—and it was now the eve of the day fixed for the bridal. This was to be solemnized with comparative privacy; end after the ceremony the Viscount was to bear his bride away to his own palatial mansion in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau. To Zoe only had M. Volney spoken of his own intentione—- namely, to repair to some distant and retired spot, where he might dwell for the remainder of his existence. Clarine and the Viscount thought that he purposed to continue at the Chatean ; and they entertained the hope that in process of time he would return to his own seat, also in the vicinage of Fonteinghleau. As for Zoe herself,—she had to stgompany her friend Clarine and the Viscount totheiz {future home, and there to remain with for a few weeks, until ahe should have forged some other plan for her fature arrange- remorse, for the re-3 forth He was in a state of mind which forbade | change sumptuous mansi¢g-———” 7 “And you will :accompeny yae thither, my dearest friend!” efid the happy and gratefal Clarine; “and though you have finted at other arrangements to be carried into effest after a while, yet shall I hope to keep you altogether with me until-—."’ . Bat here Clarine stopped short,—-evidently aware that the enthusiaem of her feelings towards her friend Zoe had borne her suddenly upon the fron- tier of delicate ground. “Until a change takes place in my own position, you would say?” obeerved Lady Octavian, in ao- cents of mildest y- “If you mean, dear Clarine, that heppiness with my husband yet awaits wpe in ¢hig world, .you ere mistaken———Ob, you are mittsken! Jbd only change to which [ now look forward, is that-which the hand of death itself must accomplish.” “ Speak not thas, my beloved friend!” exclaimed Clarine, the tears trickling down her cheeks: “ you know not how it afflicts me to listen to these mournful presentiments from your lips. You are eo mild and resigned———” » observed Zoe, “ because with Christian fortitude can I look my destiny in the “If you were to give way 4o lamentations and repinings, and to veheniené oufparsts,” continued Clarine, “they would not have upon me the same effect which this mild placid melancholy of your’s produces. Oh! believe me, dearest Zoo, I feel COMNMUIC OOO) SS} (COLL