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Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 24 of 399

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ED “oe aie. - « «mf Mae e THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. . li preciate the duties of your new position—distressed to think that the memory of the past is still so strong within you.” Father,” replied Ehza, earnestly, “ distress not | struck by her father’s look, manner, and words, It is done: IE am re-! whitch appeared somewhat singular: but Mrs. yourself on my account. blessing attend thee as a talisman to keep thy Mind thus firm—thus nerved !” The young Duchess was to q certain extent signed, if I be not contented. No—distress not | Bailey entered at the moment to announce that the yourself: but God grant that all possible happi-'| carriage was in readinesé. She embraced her sire ness may be yours for the remainder of your days!”—and as she uttered these last words, tears trickled slowly down the pale cheeks of the Duchess of Marchmont. “ Eliza, my darling!” said the old man, much moved ; “let me see you exercise a becoming for- titude !” “Y am strong—and I am calm too again, father,” responded the Duchess, wiping away her tears. “ What other counsel have you to-give mie ere we separate P” “Only a few words more,” resumed Captain Lacey. “I might say much—I might tell you many things—but the time is too short now—the carriage is at the door—your ducal husband is waiting to bear away his beloved bride. And moreover,” continued the old man, with an in- crease of that nervous excitement which his daughter mistook for sorrow at the approach of the parting moment, “it would arouse too many painful feel- ings—too many sad recollections. But yet, my darling daughter, there are a few words which must be spoken. You may perhaps shortly hear nimes mentioned in your presence, which will vividly recall that past to which I have alluded. You may discover too, that your marriage has given you connerxions which But no matter! It is only a single word of parting advice that I have time or fortitude enough to proffer; and that is to conjure you to be upon your guard, so that whatever you may hear shall not lead you to be- | again—she embraced her relative also; and then issuing forth, found her husband ready to escort her to the magnificent equipage. And now she was seated by that husband's side in the carriage with ducal arms emblazoned on the panels, symbolic of the almost princely rank to which that day she had been admitted asa partner. The four horses, guided and urged along by tho two expert postilions, dashed through the streets ; and in a short space London was left behind. Kliza,—while responding with that pensive sweet- ness which had become habitual to her, to the re- marks which the Duke made,—revolved in her soul ali the details of the parting counsel which her father had given to her; and it was nob very long before her presence of mind and her fortitude were put to the test. For in the course of an affectionate and endearing speech, the Duke gave her to understand that they were on their way to the moet splendid of his three country-seate—that it was situated in Hampshire—and that its name was Oaklands. A glacial thrill shot through her like an electric shock at the mention of that name: but she was so completely on her guard, that her countenance betrayed naught of what was agitating within. In case howeter that it shoul, she looked from the window for a few moments, as if contemplating the scenery by which they were passing: but she gazed on vacaney. Oakiands !|—that was the country-seat to which Bertram Vivian had ree tray to your husband that you were at one time | paired when he parted from her at Oxford; and it the betrothed of another.’’ | belonged to the family of which he himself was a . “Father,” replied the Duchess, with a glacial | scion. How, then, could it now be in the posses- firmness of tone and a statue-like immoveability | ston of the Duke her husband ? of features and of form, so that not a muscle of “We shall be there,” continued his Grace, her countenance was stirred by affliction, nor the | “completely by ourselves at first; and this seclu- folds of her splendid scarf agitated by the bosom’s heavings,—“ you have seen with what fortitude I have passed through tho ordeal of this day’s sion, my beloved Eliza, I hope will not prove dis- agreeable or monotonous.” ‘Nothing, my lord,” she answered, with her ae- ceremony: you have seen likewise that by my | castomed sweet amiability, “that is consistent with conduct I have never once given the Duke of | your will and pleasure, can be objectionable to me.” Marchmont ground for the supposition that he is an object of the merest indifference to me. ‘Thanks, my sweet Ehsza, for that response :” By '—and her husband pressed her hand to his lips. all this Jet my future conduct be judged: by what | “In due time you will be introduced to the other Tam, you may estimate what I shall be. Yes— members of the family—or rather they will be pre- I am firm. My destiny is fixed—and I accept | sented to you: and then we will have a gay com- it. Even if he whose image is dearer to me than | pany at Oaklands. ‘Your father and Mrs. Bailey I can express, were by a miracle to be brought | shall join us; and my own sweet Elisa shall do the back to life—were ho suddenly to stand before me |] ' happy to make her the mistreas.” —I feel that Fam nerved with the courage it may be of despair—but nevertheless it ds the courage that alone is adequate to support me even | through such an ordeal as that. Now, father, aro | you satisfied ?” stant the expression which fittted over the old man’s features: the next moment it was succeeded by one of gladness, indubitable—unmistakable ; and straining his daughter to his breast, he ex- elaimed, “I thank thec, beloved Eliza, for these assurances. Go, my darling: the moment is cbmo honours of the house of which I am proud and The Duchess gave a suitable response; and as the journey was continued, the discourse was con- tinned also: but nothing more was said by the Duke to put his bride’s fortitude and presence of Singular and incomprehensible was for an in- ‘mind to the test. Yet Oaklands—that name of Oaklands—kept agitating in her brain. She longed to ask her husband how 1¢ was that this estate had fullen into his possession—but she dared not; and as he said naught upon the subject, she supposed he either took it for granted that she was already informed thereon, or else that he eousidered it to for us tu separate! Go: and ithy a father’s be 4 matter of but littl moment. Cm=ip = =, ORME © gr? gee. eee (™ =a GP 2 =a SS om > aw & @ »saewa ww egy « @ oe oe oe & eee ww ante Geen oe CE 6 COMMUC DOO CS (COL