The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

10 THE MYSTERIES OF THB COURY. But there was one stipulation which she posi- | instant was approaching when Eliza, now Duchess tively laid down. It was now the close of April, | of Marchmont, was to bid adieu to her father and 1828 : upwards of a couple of months must elapse | her relative, and accompany her husband to which- until the two years should be completed since her | soever of the country-scats it was where the honey- father’s written pledge to Bertram Vivian that | moon was to be passed—but which the young bride under certain circumstances the engagement with | knew not. She was even ignorant of the very him should be renewed; and though the afflicted | names of them all. Retiring from the breakfast- Eliza entertained not the faintest hope that there | table, she sought the chamber where her maid was was the possibility of aught occurring, or of a | in readiness to assist her in making the requisite miracle being wrought, to give scope for those cir- | change in her apparel for the journey; and it cumstances,—it nevertheless seemed a supersti- | struck strange—almost unnatural to Eliza’s ear tiously sacred duty that the full time should run / when she was addressed as “your grace” and out. And it required also twocomplete months to | “my lady.” Her toilet being finished, she finish the year since the intelligence had reached | repaired to a parlour where she knew, according her of Bertram’s death; and though circumstances | to an intimation given by her maid, that her had prevented her from wearing sable garments as | father wished to say a few words to her in private, a tribute to his memory, her heart at least re- | and bestow without restraint the last embrace quired the completion of a year’s mourning———a : before she was separated from him. There she mourning, however, that she knew would be eter- : found the old man in a state of happiness strangely nal! Her stipulation therefore was that the bridal- | blended with 4 nervous excitement—but assuredly day—the day of her immense self-sacrifice—should | not with grief at the prospect of parting. Not not be fixed at any date earlier than the month of | but that he loved his daughter dearly, as the July. Jo this her father readily promised concur- | reader well knows: his pride however was too rence: the principal point was gained—and that | highly gratified—his relief from cares on account was sufficient. of her future welfare, was too complete—and The interval passed far too quickly for the | perhaps his satisfaction at the result of his plans afflicted Elisa: but outwardly she suffered no | was too full, to leave room for aught savouring of traces of her soul’s utter despair to present them- | sorrow. Only that nervous excitement was blended, selves. She had made up her, mind to self. | asa sort of alloy, with bis other feelings; and this immolation :. she resolved that her martyrdom | the unsophisticated Eliza took for the tinge of should excruciate only herself. She felt that she | grief which it was natural to suppose that he ex- had no right to suffer the Duke to perceive that | perienced, but which he really did not feel. she was a victim: neither did she wish to marthe| ‘ My dearest girl,” he said, clasping her in his happiness which her father was now experiencing |! arms, “ your beauty and your worth have raised in tho last days of his existence. In short, she ! you to the highest pinnacle. Once more—and for armed herself with a preterbuman courage; and: the last time—must I allude to something con- but for the paleness of her cheeks and the slight | nected with the past.” deepening of tho air of pensive sadness upon her| Here the Duchess shuddered as if with a glacial countenance, no ono could have told that another | chill shooting through her, although it was the dagger had been driven into her already too cruelly | sultry month of July. Her pale countenance wounded heart. became paler; and her hand was instinctively On the 10th of July, 1828, the marriage was} placed upon her hcart—for there was Bertram solemnized, with some degree of privacy, and only | Vivian’s ring concealed | in the midst of a select circle,—none of the Duke’s{ “Only a few words,” said Captain Lacey quickly relatives being present. His Grace had his own | —for he saw this emotion and comprehended it. reasons for not inviting to the bridal those who | “ You now belong to another: you are the bride were most nearly allied to him; inasmuch as his | of a nobleman whose honour is unimpeachable, as marriage was a fatal blow—or at least might prove | his rank is lofty and his wealth immense. I need so, if blessed with issue—to all who would profit , scarcely tell you, Elisa, that he knows nothing of by his death if he remained single. And Captain | the past; and if you be wise—if you be prudent— Lacey had his own reasons likewise for encouraging | if indeed you wish to be kind and considerate the Duke in the idea of private nuptials: but what | towards him, you will cherish that as your own these reasons were, he explained not beforehand to | secret——r rather forget that it ever was !” his daughter. Sho herself asked no questions: she} ‘I cannot, father,” said Eliza, in a low deep knew not even the names of the Duke’s relatives, | voice. “I cannot forget it! But, as you have nor who they were: she sought to know nothing | observed, it is my secret—and it shall remain so. more than ¢gircumstances brought to her knowledge ' Let me relieve you of all apprehension on that —and this knowledge was limited tu the fact that: head. I am now the Duke’s wife: I campre- he on whom she bestowed her hand was the Duke | hend all that is becoming on my part in my new of Marchmont, gnd that she was now a Duchess. | position. I sbould feel honoured and flattered by his preference of me, did I possess a heart still —- capable of being moved by such feelings: but at least I shall be careful not to wound nor shock my CHAPTER III. husband by suffering him to know that I have loved another—that I cannot love him—that the SHE DUCHESS OF MARCHMONT. me |” THE ceremony was over—the wedding breskfast,' ‘‘ Dearest daughter,” oxclaimed Captain Lacey, given by Mrs. Bailey, and which was of a most , “I am delighted and distressed to hear you speak splendid description, likewise reached an end—the | thus !—delighted to find that you so admirably ap- power of loving a second time is dead within COMMUC DOO CS (COL