The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

ot THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. learn it at present. present. When you return to London , it appear as if the lady of whom he epoke was and inform your parents that you have formed | temporarily residing in the town of Gainsborough. the fnendship of blunt George Hawkshaw, you can | Mr. Denison listened in silent attention: he did not then, with their permigsion, write and tell me what- | speak a word until Frank had finished; and whea avever you may have to unfold. In the mesnwhile you are a weloome guest here; end I hope that the friendship which has thus commenced, will last throughout our lives. And now for the amuse- ments of the day.” “Yesterday, Mr. Hawkskaw,” observed Frank, “you denied yuureself the pleasure of paying a visit to your intended bride; and from all that I noticed, you did not see her last at the ball——” “Oh, you ely dog!” ejaculated the Squire, with a loud and somewhat boisterous laugh: “you were looking out—were you-—to seo if I paid particular attention in any quarter P” “No, Mr. Hawkshaw,” was Frank’s quick re- sponse; “I am incapable of undue curiosity. But what I meant you to infer was, that I did not ees you pay any such particular attention: for if you had, I could not have failed to obeorve it. Taking % for granted, then, that you did sof see your in- tended bride last night, I cannot possibly think of being so selfish as to engross you all to myeelf. Therefore you must pay your accustomed visit—and I shall indulge in a ramble through your beautiful grounds.” “No, my young friend,” replied Hawkshaw, emiling : “I do not mean to leave you to yourself, or throw you so completely on your own resuurces. E have already despatched a note which will leave me free to remain altogether with you. So now, if you please, we will take a scamper and shake off the Sects of lant night's dissipation.” There was no possibility of offering any farther remonstrance to the good-natured Squire's plan of proceedings ; and Frank accordingly suffered him to have his own way. In respect to writing to his father, he said that this would be unnecessary, as he must positively start for London on the ensuing morning. The horses were saddled: he end the passed in the same manner es on the day. At four o'cleck they returned to the Hall to dress for dinner; and a little before five the old-fashioned carriage was in readiness to take them to Mr. Deni- son’s. On arriving there, they received the kindest welcome from their host and hostess, by both of whom Frank was especially made much of. It was @ small party, the other guests consisting only of some of Mr. Denison’s own family. In the course of the evening Mr. Denison took an opportunity to conduct Frank into his library; and there, making him sit down, he said, “My young friend, I have to repeat the question I pat to you fast night: whether there be any way in which I can serve you? You saw the letter which your esteemed father wrote; and you must speak to me ingly proceeded to give him precisely the same detaiis as he had already narrated to the Squire, etill suppressing Juliane’s name, end still making eo rE, eee . a= « the youth had done, he appeared to reflect pro- foundly for some time. “Now, my young friend,” he at length eaid, speaking gravely and solemnly, but still with a truly paternal kindness, “you will follow the advice of one who is old enough not merely to be your father, but your grandfather. Avoid this woman as the mariner would a rock on which his vessel must inevitably suffer shipwreck: avoid her as if she were a moral { You are too young, and your life is too full of brilliant hope, for you to sacrifice yourself to such a shameless Am I not giving you the advice which your revered father would proffer, were he present on this occa- gion, 2°? “You ere, my dear sir—you are,” Frank, seizing the old gentleman’s hand and press- ing it warmly. “TI have already pledged myself to Mr. Hawkshaw that everything shall be at an end between that lady and myself: I renew the same pledge to you!” “It is well,” rejoined Mr. Denison; “and I am gratified with this evidence of your sincerity. But there is still something more that you must do: and now I am again counselling you as if it were your ows father who in his loving care was proffer- ing his best advice. That woman—for it is scarcely possible to call her a lady after all you have told me—will not leave you unmolested: she will take the earliest measures to obtain an interview with you—and for your own sake you ought not to incur the risk of being drawn within the magic circle of her charms. Therefore, my young friend, let me entreat you to take a bold and decisive step, whicd shall at once put that woman to confusion.” “What would you advise, sir?” asked Frank. nthe en nent that you write 8 letter, telling her shat you have penetrated her character—that you look with loathing and abhorrence upon the woman who could make up her mind to become the wife of an honourable man, merely for the pur- pose oF cncaiving Bim, tnd using the sanctity of the marriage-state as a cloak for a guilty connexion with aparamour. This would I do, my dear Frank ; and in the name of your father I enjoin you to adopt the course which I recommend. There are writing-materials — pen the letter at once— sand entrust it to me for delivery.” Frank started, and gased upon Mr. Denison with a kind of vacant bewilderment. Was he aware, then, who the lady was that furmed the sub- jeot of conversation? had he seen or heard any- thing on the previous evening to make him suspect the actual truth? or did he mean to inquire pre- sently the name and address of this lady ? “My young friend,” said Mr. Denison, looking grave and serious, “I know more than you have imagined—or perhaps not more than you at this moment suspect. The female who hag degraded the sex to which she belongs—who beneath a brilliant exterior nourishes the most detestable passions— and whose beauty serves but as a disguise for her vices — that foul creature is Lady Saxondale’s. daughter, Juliana Farefield !" Frank made no unmediate observation. He did (COLLUUG CYL DOO CS (COL