The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

TS TT Sas Se SS Pv refi epee MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. but yet the fairest exterior offen vyeile the foulest corruptions. There is some deep mystery in con- nexion with that box which is to come next Taes- day night from thie house ; and I must fathom it. Every incident, however trivial it may appear, is to me of momentous impoxt, Who knows how it may serve as a link in that chain which I am en- deavouring to follow up? The link may not for the moment seem to fit: but it must not on this account be discarded. Who oan tell but that it will sooner or later find ite appropriate place end belp me on to the ecoomplishment of my While thus meditating, Clament Redcliffe pur- sued his way—at frat without perceiving the di- rection he was taking, and without any specific object in view. But suddenly he bethought him- acslf of a poor invalid old man whose case had be- come known to him in his wanderings about the metropolis, and whose last few weeks in this life he was soothing with that quiet unostentatious benevolence which he wae want to afford. The medical man whose sarvices his pursehad provided for thie invalid, had recommended certain Hittle delicacies, cooling fruita, and ao forth; and Red- cliffe now continued his way towards Covent Gar- den ‘Market, to make such purchases as under the elroumnstences he would be ecc le. Arrived in the arcade, his charitable intentions were speedily catried aut: and on quitting the fruiterer’s shop, he strolled ap #o the terrace on the roof of the market, where flowers are ox- hibited. Hedcliffe was passionately fund of contemplating floral rarities,—a taste which was natural with his refined intelligence, and which had been strengthened by bis long residence in an oriental clime. Ho was entering one of the conservatories, when he stepped back with a sudden sense of intrusion upon two individuals who were standing there in and earnest conversation,—a conversation 60 absorbing that they did not notice his presence. One was a lady the very Grst glance at whose ap- | lips. pearance was sufficient to impress the behalder evith an ides of rank and distinction. She was dressed with that simple elegance and exquisite refinement of teste which characterized the well- bred woman. The consclotisness of bigh birth and the dignity of position blended swedtly and har- moniously with the perfect loveliness of her coun- tenance and the flowing outlines of her symmetri- cal shape. Her fsatnres, perfect in their profile, had that classic sculpttiral finish which is 0 seldom seen: she was a creature of a ificent beanty— a beauty that fascinated more thas it dazsled, and enthralled the soul more than it bewildered the imagination. Her age was about three-and- twenty: she was tall, with a shape of full deve- toped contours, and yet faultlessly symmetrical in the tapering slanderness of the waist. Her hair was of the richest auburn, flowing in glossy lus- trous tresses from beneath the elegant Parisian bonaet. Her eyes, of the clearest biue, were large and darkly fringed—the brows delicately pencilled and beautifully arched. One hanil had the glove off ;---a emali white delicate hand it was tuo; and one of the tapering flugers wore the wedding- @. Her compenion, who held that beautiful hand tenderly pressed between both his own, was a young man of perfect masonline beauty. He 141 might have been about her own age; and his appearance indicated a distinguished position, as we have already said that her's likewise did. But that he was not her husband, Clement Redoliffe saw ata glance: for though they were unconscious of his presence, yet there was something evi- dently stealthy in their meeting at that place. No husband would have held her hand as he ‘did: no wife in the presence of a husband would have worn that expression whiob was visible in her deep blue brooding eyes, and in the passion- breathing lips, which, slightly apart, afforded a glimpse of the pearle within. And he was speak- ing in a low murmuring voice, but with a tender . persuasivenese of the look—as if he were pleading a cause whose only argument was love, and to which she could not yield with honour to her- self. The rising and sinking of the shaw) folded over her full and swelling bust, denoted the agi- tation which reigned in her heart: though she stood otherwise perfectly still and motioniees, with that fair white hand abandoned to her ‘lover, and with the colour coming and going rapidly upon her beautiful damask cheeks, Snob was thespectacle which Clement Redcliffe beheld almost at the firat glance—or at least within the few moments which he lingered upon the threshold of the conservatory. The man who had charge thereof, was attending to a cus- tomer at a little distance on the terrace: that tender pair evidently thought themselves alto- gether alone and unpereeived,—snatching per- haps the quick stolen foterview of a few minutes —but these few minutes constituting a period in which a whole world of heart's feelings became mutually expressed. Redcliffe caught the words, “ Madame Angelique” and “M. Bertin,” amidst the otherwise inaudible murnurings of the young man’s voice,—inaudible however only to him : for the lady was evidently drinkingin with mingled hope and fear—love's passion and alarm —every syllable that came from her companions Redcliffe tarned abruptly away: but glancing through the glass of the conservatory, he saw that the tender couple still remained in precisely the same position—and that so far from ¢heir being startled by that movement on his part, his presence had continued utterly unper- ceived. “ That scene is but too intelligible,” ho thought to himself, as he proceeded to the conservatory at the other end of the terrace. “ Thero is a young wife not yet lost, but hovering upon the very verge of perdition,—her love getting the better of her sense of duty—the enamoured tempter’s persuasiveness proving stronger than her pro- dence. Would that id dared step between them to save her, and strengthen that lingering virtue which required eo much tender pleading on his part to have its last barriers broken down! But no: itis not for me to intervene. There are good deeds which a philanthropist would fain perform—~but which, as the world goes, he dares not even approach.” Then it struck Redcliffe as singular that at a moment when he had so'little expected to Lear it, the name of Madame Angelique should have been mentioned, and coupled too with that of the very person whom he had ere now noticed to be her neighbour. Was it possible that the young man was proposing an assignation, for the carrying out © ea See cee on 9 (COL (C DOO CS (COL