The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 299: what you’re looking at

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

24 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “ Positively, Stephanie,” ejaculated the Viscount, starting up angrily from his seat, “this scene is becoming wearisome to a . If we were still Jovera, it would be bad enough: but from a wife to her husband, it is really intolerable. I must beg and beseech that you will not give way to these guste of temper.” “Temper P” she echoed, as if a new light had broken in upon her, thus suddenly making her aware that her temper was a bad one—an aseur- ance which she was fully prepared to take on the mere word of her husband, and to adopt the fault as sincerely and contritely as if the imputation were perfectly correct. “Yes, temper /” he answered, somewhat fiercely : for on his side the impression was that his wife had echoed the word in a spirit of indignant repu- diation : “I said temper—and since it has come to this, I may as well be candid with you at once. Now, look you, Stephanie,” he continued—and we must do him the j to add that he did not at the moment perceive how his unfortunate spouse was ing him with mingled affright and dismay,—“look you, Stephanie! I am getting thoroughly wearied of these scenes: they are re- peated too often. Always tears, or else implied upbrai and then a perfect storm of iavished endearmente! That is not the life I wish to lead. Try and be always the same ; and I shall be always the same to you. But don’t disgrace me in the presence of our servants. You seem to think, Stephanie, as I just now said, that I am to be ever tied to your spron-strings—that now I have become the husband, I am still to play the lover. I can do nothing of the sort; and what is more, I do not intend to attempt it. If you think that because you brought me sa fortune, you have a right to a Y devotion such as is only displayed during the period of courtshi “ Jules,” exclaimed the Viscountess, sprin forward and falling u feet, while her clasped hands were stretched out : “do not—do not, for heaven's sake, attribute such unworthy thoughts to me! My fortune—or the fortune that I brought you—lI have never once thought of it! Would to God that I had been ten times as rich, that I might have bestowed all, all upon you——” Here was another offence—though the reader may full easily comprehend how very far it was from the unfortunate young lady’s intention to give it. But she stopped short suddenly, perceiv- ing how her husband started—how his countenance became stern—and how he drew himself up with the haughtiest dignity. ‘* Madam,” he said, “vise from that posture. It is not one which I ever desire my wife to adopt towards me :”—then as the Viscountess rose to her feet—cowed, dismayed, and full of anguish—he went on to say, in a tone which struck her as im- placably severe, “Your words have conveyed such a taunt as I little expected ever to hear issue from your lips. You would remind me that I owe my wealth to you; and though you gave the assurance the semblance of love, yet was it the cruellest of | no reproaches thus to declare that you wished you had been richer so as to lavish your fortune upon me! Ah! then I am a sort of pensioner—I am bribed with gold? Verily, madam, I would have you reflect that rank is above wealth, and that I ging upon her knees at her husband’s gave you # name which all the sugar-baker's money-bags never could have purchased.” a eee a With this heartless speech the Viscount de Chateauneuf turned abruptly upon his heel: bat as a low moan struck his ear, he was suhitten with remorse fof what he had said ; and turning quickly round again, was only jast in time to catch his anguished wife in his arms. For, overpowered by the cruel violence of that blow which his words had dealt: her, she was tottering and about to fall. “Stephanie ! Stephanie !” he exclaimed, half petulantly, half kindly: “how fvolish of you te provoke these scenes !”—yet he felt that he him- self was wrong, though thus endeavouring to fling all the blame upon her. “ Forgive me, Jules,” she murmured, feeling it - was a luxury thus to be clasped in hisarms. “I do indeed see that my conduct has been very wrong——I know that I make you unhappy —every day tends to convince me of my own fail- ings, and that I am not fitted to be your wife But bear with me, Jules; and I will endeavour— Oh! I qill endeavour, to be more guarded in future |” “Well, well, Stephanie,” said the Viscount, his conscience torturing him as if a scorpion were planting its sting in his heart,—“ let there be an end of this.” “There shall, Jules,” she murmured, smiling sweetly upon him as his arms still clasped her slender waist. “But tell me that you love me— do tell me that you love me———” At this instant the door again opened,—and the lacquey re-appeared, bearing upon the silver salver a letter which by some accident had been omitted from the batch previously brought in. The Vis- count became crimson, and turned away from Stephanie as if he had been caught embracing the wife of another instead of his own. The incident was a most untoward one. The quarrel—if such it could be called, where the quarrelling was al] on his own side—had just been about to end in recon- ciliation, when the appearance of this servan all Jules de Chateauncuf’s choler rise up again. “Stephanie, this is perfectly intolerable!” he ejaculated vehemently, and almost fiercely, the moment the lacquey had again left the room. “You disgrace me thoroughly! At first it is whining and crying, so that the servants think you are ill-treated : then it is this maudlin em- bracing, so that they will fancy I am begging your pardon, confessing I am a naughty boy, and that I will never do such a thing again! Now, all this is only bringing me into contempt; and when I next look my servants in the face, I shall see a sneering smile upon their lips. It is brought about by your folly ” “I am indeed most unfortunate,” murmured the poor young lady, sinking down upon a seat. “I endeavoured to please you—but I cannot!” “There you are again!” ejaculated the Viscount, stamping his foot upon the carpet. you persist in this style of upbraiding ? It dors no good— it only creates ill-feeling “My dear husband,” said Stephanie, now up, and looking as well as speaking with a sort of calmness, “I am afraid that you will never have real: with me. I am not fitted to be your wife: I am beneath you in birth “ Why will. (COL (C OOOLK (COL