The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

eee, eee ND <p Guia we «= _ = «® o o eer 42 THE MYSTERIES OF THE OOURT. asked Hawkshaw. “I see that you are a young gentleman in speech—in manners -in everything ——But will you be offended if I ask you for your address in Gainsborough, that I may leave there some little token of my gratitude for the service you have rendered me?” “ Again and again do I express my gratitude,” responded Frank, “coupled with the assurance that I require nothing. On some future occasion we shall perhaps meet again. And now farewell, gir.” With these words Frank hurried away in the direction of Saxondale Castle, while Mr. Hawkshaw proceeded to mount his horse, saying to himself, ‘He is a nice youth—a very interesting youth— but somehow or another I can’t make him out. I should like to know more of him :”—and he was haif inclined to ride back and renew the conversa- tion ; but fearing that his good intentions might be interpreted as mere inquisitivences, or even construed into downright impertinent curiosity, he gallopped away towards Gainsborough. Meanwhile Francis Paton had hurried onward until the sounds of the retreating horse’s hoofs no longer reached his ears; and then slackening his pace somewhat, he thought to himself, “Thie Mr. Hawkshaw is evidently a warm-hearted and excel- lent man. Had I wanted a friend, accident would have sent me one in him.” Bat his thoughts were speedily diverted into another channel: for as the reader may full well suppoee, it was not to survey the fine old castle that Francis Paton had come down into Lincolnshire— but to obtain an interview with the daughter of ite mistress. Trusting to circumstances to furnish him with the desired opportunity, he approached nearer to the grounds; and ekirting the park-railing, plunged his looks into the enclosure of the spacious garden within. On reaching a gate, and finding it unlocked, he thuaght there woald at least be no harm in entering the park; and once there, he naturally enough approached the garden all the more readily and likewise the more anxiously because he bebeld a form in white drapery moving in the midet of a shady avenue near the extremity. Nearer and nearer ho drew—but cautiously, in case it should net be the object of his search, although his heart told him that it was—until at length he was nigh enough to clear up all doubt. Yes: it wae she—Juliana Farefield—the idol of his youthful heart—the dearly-beloved image that his soul cherished !—it was she, robed in the same white drapery which she ha! worn in the furencon, when walking in that very same spot with George Hawkshaw ! CHAPTER XCVIL THB TEST OF LOVB. Tas moment that Frank Paton became convinced the fourm he beheld was that of Juliana — the moment he caught sight of her splendid counte- nance framed by thuse massive bands of glossy raven hair—he shrank into the shade of the densest sbrub tust within the railings, on the outer side of which he stood, so that it screened him from her view. How should he be received? had she forgotten him? or, at least, had she ceased to love him? Sar, Gap im ee as A a, —_— Dew Gp Would she resent his appearing before ber? would she feel annoyed and indivnant on beholding him in that mean, shabby attire ? Such were the misgivings which swept burriedly through the mind of Francis Paton, and kept him transfixed with suspense and apprehension for up- wards of a minute. But no, no—it was impossible! she could not have forgotten him! she could not have ceased to love him! she would not discard him because he came in poor apperel! And if sho did——-why, then the test would be accomplished ; and it were better that he should learn his fate than linger on, entertaining hopes which after all would be never destined to receive fulfilment. Now was the moment to breathe her name!—she was passing near the shrub—she was barely four ;xrds from the spot where be wag concealed ! “Wiss Farefeld —Jaliana,” murmured Frank : and he held his breath with renewed suspense. “ Who calls * she ejaculated with a sudden start: then stopping short, she swept her bright looks around. “That voice—Oh, that voice——” A thrill of joy shot through the youthful heart of the lady’s devoted lover: for in those accents there seemed to be wafted the assurance of continued affection, of delight, and of hope. He sprang for- ward—e ory of joy barat from Juliana’s lips: he leapt over the low palinge of the garden—he would have thrown himself at her feet—but sho caught him in her arms. *t Dearest, dearest Frank,” she murmured, pross- ing him again and again to her bosom, and covering his cheeks, his lips, and his forehead with the moat impassioned kisses. “Dearest, dearest Frank, is it indeed you?’—and more fervidly still did she em- brace him—more glowing and rapturous were the caresses she lavished upon him. “Beloved Jaliana——Oh, my beloved one!”— and he could asy no more: his voiee was choked with unutterable emotions of bliss, and joy, and ecstacy: and if he had leisure for a single thought apart from thoee feelings, it was in self-reproach that he had for an instant doubted her constancy or suspected her love. “My own dear Frank—my heart's dearest Frank,” she said, drawing herself the least thing back, but still keeping her arms thrown round his lithe and slender form: “let me look at you-—let me gaze upon your beautiful face—let me look into the depths of those handsome eyes!”—and as she thus epoke, with the rich blood mantling upon her own hot cheeks, her regards, half tender, haif devouring, wandered from feature to feature of that yoathtul countenance which was indeed of the moat exq.sisito beauty. “Then you do love me, Juliana?” murmured Frank, with a sweet smile that revealed the brilliancy of his ivory teeth: but he was allowed to say no nora at that instant—for his lips were sealed by those of the impassioned lady, who again and again pressed him to her bosom. “Love you, Frank?” she said, in a deep earnest voice: “love you? Oh, yes—I love yuu beyond the power of language to describe, You know that I love you! Did not your heart tell you so? or else why did you seek me again? Yes, beautiful and adorable boy—I love you—by this kisa 1 love you! And by this—and this—and this °” “Oh, my own Julians,” murmured Frank; “e EE a er: SY ST aD (COL (C DOO CS (COL