The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 286: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 277 —_— 2 eee shall become the strongest law for me. But re- {I doP? ‘asked Adolphus, with passionate vehe- member, dear Ethel, my position is not merely a painful one—it is absolutely frightful !” “TI know—I know it!” exclaimed the Countess, again speaking with a kind of hysterical frenzy ; “ and therefore it is impossible for me to advise you. Do what you will: but if your position be fright- ful, mine is almost desperate—and sooner than behold you compelled to lead another to the altar-———”’ She stopped short; and Adolphus was terrified by the strange wild look of mingled frenzy and despair which for a few moments seemed stamped upon her countenance. ‘Good heavens! what am I to do?” he ex- claimed, starting up from his kneeling position at her fest, and beginning to pace the room with agitated and uneven steps. “I feel as if I were ing mad!” “ And I,” cried the Countess in a thrilling voice, “ feel as if I were mad already! Ob, why did I ever love you as I have done ?—wherefore do I love you ao passionately still ?” “Ethel, let us endeavour to be composed and reasonable,” said Adolphus, at length resuming his seat by her side, and taking her hand as he looked with fond earnestness and imploring en- treaty in her face. “TI tell you that I neither wild nor cas take any step without your consent :—but will you calmly envisage all the difficulties of the position in which I know we are placed ?” “Yes, yee—proceed |!” said the Countess. “I am calm-—I am reasonable!”—and yet she shivered visibly as if with a cold inward despe- ration. “Would you, Ethel, that we should fly away together?” asked Adolphus. “No—I am sure you would not: for it would be ruin for us both. The Kari in his rage would proclaim everything in respect to myself: I should become an outcast— penniless; and though God knowe I shrink not from the idea of poverty on my own account, yet for your sake, Ethel—Oh, I could not endure to behold you, my beloved one, pining away in want!” “Think not of me,’ answered the Countess; “ for I could dare everything. But not for worlds would I have your true position proclaimed !—not for worlds would I have you stripped of your rank —scorned and spurned by those who have hitherto been your equals——No, no—I could not—it would kill me!” “You see, Ethel,” continued Adolphus, “that what I said is right—and we cannot flee away td- gether. But on the other hand I cannot remain here in the same position as before: the Earl in- sists that I should marry Isabella. Neither can I carry out our original view and go abroad upon sideration that the Earl insists that I shall espouse Isabella |” “In a word, then,” rejoined the Countess, speaking in a voice of cold and unnatural calmness, “your position is reduced to these alternatives— that you must either fly away with me, or remain to espouse Isabella. We have both that the first of these alternatives is impossible; and I see therefore that you are endeavouring to make up your mind to the latter. Is it not eo?” “In the name of heaven, Ethel, what else can mence. ‘And Isabella, who loves Christian Ashton ?” said the Countess, still in the same voice as be- fore. “Did you ever for a moment faucy that this childish passion of theirs,” exclaimed Adolphus, “would eventually come to anything? It was ali very well that you and I availed ourselves of it for our Own purposes: but could we in sober serious- ness conceive that an Ear!’s niece would be allowed to throw herself away upon this penniless youth ?” “‘ And you could level your mind to the accept- ance of a bride whose love you know to be bestowed upon another—end which very love you yourself have helped to fan P’’ “Ethel, you are cruel—too cruel! you are goad- ing me to desperation!’’—and again Adolphus started up from his seat in a wild and excited manner. “ Will you tell me,” he demanded, after two or three rapid pacings to and fro,—“ will you tell me, Ethel, what course I am to pursue ?—for as there is a heaven above me, I see but one!” “Pursue it then,” said the Countess: “ pursue it, Adolphue——and may you be happy. But I—bat I 7 “Oh! now you fill me with wretehedness again !”’ —and the young man literally wrang his hands in anguish. No, no—be not unhappy,” responded the Coun- tess: and there was still an unnatural coldness in her look. “It is useless, Adolphus, to continue this scene: it is most painful for us both.” “Then, by heaven,” ejaculated the young man, vehemently, “I will sot marry Isabella! I will take some step—indeed I will do the very worst, rather than seal the unhappiness of your life!” “And J, Adolphus, would do the very woret also,” rejoined the Countess, “rather than live to behold you the husband of another !’” Haviog thus spoken, Ethel abruptly quitted the room: and Adolphus continued to walk to and fro —but no longer in an agitated manner: it was mh slow pace, sombre countenance, and downoast ooke. Ce) CHAPTER LIL THE DEED OF A NIGHT. ADOLPHUS and Ethel did not meet again until the evening; and this was at the dinner-table, where the Earl and Isabella were present. But it would almost seem as if they had by tacit consent com- posed their looks in such a manner that not even to each other should there linger the slightest trace to remind them of the painful scene which had occurred a few hours back. The Earl, as a matter of course, s not for an instant that Adolphus had acquainted Ethel with the astound- ing revelation in respect to his birth; and it was naturally Ethel’s policy and purpose to prevent her husband from surmising that any such revelation had been made to her. It is therefore easy to un- derstand why she compelled herself to converse and smile as gaily as heretofore, and to wear a look as if she were labouring under no restraint. Iu the same way it was the policy as well as purpose of (COL (C DOO CS (COL