The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 219: what you’re looking at

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208 THE MYSTERIES. which you should poor forth—but vengeance which fligate “And now are you not ashamed you should crave.” of me ?” “ No—no : not vengeance,” sobbed the generous- eouled Countess: “for he has done all that mortal could to make amends for a flagrant wrong. Alas!” she continued, raising her head, and casting down the eyes on the long lashes of which trembled the pearly drops; “I hate and detest myself when I think that such a circumstance should embitter my days. But vainly, vainly do I struggle with those passions which consume me—those desires which rage at times so furiously in my bosom !” -° “Eleanor, yoa are an angel of virtue, whereas you would represent yourself to be a demoness of profligate thoughts and wanton ideas!” exclaimed Georgiana. “ There is something more than a negative virtue in your chastity—your forbearance —your purity! Bat, believe me,” added the Duchess emphatically,—*“ believe me when I declare that you will continue to exist the veriest simpleton in Europe, if you thus adhere to that virtue which is nothing more nor less than asentimentalism sohighly refined and so marvellously sublimated as to be in- compatible with the grossness of even the purest mortal nature.” “What would you advise me, Georgiana?” asked the Countess, trembling with an undefiaabie sen- sation of mingled terror and delight —terror at the idea of being tempted iuto evil, and delight at tho thougnt of the evil into which she was thus to be tempted. “I would regard what you term virtue asa chain and would cast it of,” was tne unhesitating and emphatic response. “Oh! I regret now that I nave made you my confidant,” exclaimed Eleaaor: “for you give furm and substance to those ideas the existence ot which ia my own heart I have never until now dared to acknowledge to myrelf {” “ You are a perfect phenomenon, Eleanor,” re- turned the Duchess. “But I have a great mind to tell you a little secret of my own—for I also have a secret, I can assure you,” she added, with an arch smile of ineffable sweetness. “Ob! but your secret is not one that gives you pain, and that you blush to own!” said the Coun- tess. “It certainly gives me no pain,” rejoined the Duchess of Devonshire: “and yet I may perhaps blush as I reveal it to you. But if I make you my confidant in that respeot, it is on:y to prove to you that I really regard you in the light of a sister.” “ And this secret?” said Eleanor, her curiosity being raised. “It is explained in a few words,” was the re- sponse. “I have a lover !* “Doubtless! Worshipped and adored as you are, Georgiana,” said the comparatively unsophis- ticated Countess, “you have hundreds. But a lover in any other sense of the term——” “Yes—a lover in that sense,” interrupted the Duchess. “I mean that I have yielded to a phan- tasy—a whim—a wanton caprice—and have erred without one hundredth part of the excuse which you would have for erring in a similar manner.” “Is this possible, Georgiana?” exclaimed the Countess, with an astonishment most real and un- feigned. “ It is true, I can assure you,” answered tho pro- “No: I begin to see things in a new light,” re- joined Eleanor, gradually becoming familiarised with the contemplation of immorality; and when she remembered that the Princess Sophia hersell had yielded to the delights of illicit love, she won- dered that she should ever have adhered so rigidly to her own virtuous principles. “Itis not a year ago,” continued the Duchess, “that I succumbed to that phantasy and became faithless te my husband. I was seated alone, and in a pensive mood, on a sofa in the Red Drawing- room at Devonshire House. It was between four and five in the afternoon. Presently the door was thrown open-—and a visitor was announced. You know him well: he is one of the handsomest men in Europe. Heseated himself by my cide upon the sofa— and a conversation on various indifferent topics progressed for some littletime. At length I observed that he was surveying me with an earnest attention—an attention which at the moment I fancied to amount almost to rudeness; and the blood rushed to my cheeks. He threw himself on his knees before me—took my hand—pressed it to his lips and declared that if he had offended me, he would ‘yover rise until he had obtained my pardon ” “fiow emgoiar!* ejacniated the Countess, “Something very much resembling all this, oe- curred to myself about three weeks ago. Yes—I also was seated alone and ia. a pensive mood—in this very room, and on this very sofa—and a visitor’ came : he is certainly one of the handsomest men in Eogland—and you know him well—— Bat pray con- tinue your narrative, my dear friend,” cried Elea- nor, suddenly interrupting herself in the midst of the broken explanations which she was giving in a mood of almost involuntary musing. “ Well—as I was observing,” resumed the Duchess, “ my visitor vowed that he would not rise until I pardoned him—which I hastened to do, al- though, if questioned, I could scarcely have defined the offence which he had committed. Placing him- self again by my side, he dexterously and with amazing artifice continued the discourse in such a manner, that he gradually brought it to a point at which he suddenly, and as if in a burst of uncon- querable enthusiasm, declared his admiration—his passion—his love. I know not what reply I made = but I recollect well that in another moment I was clasped in his arms——” “ More singular still!” ejaculated the Countess. “ The adventure which I considered to be so in-~ sulting to myself, was precisely the same.” “ But the results were assuredly very different, retarned the Duchess: “ for whereas you must have passed pure and immaculate throaogh the ordeal, I accepted the declaration of love—and that same evening I visited Carlton :louse privately and in disguise.” “Carlton House!” exc:.:..ned Eleanor, with in- creasing wonderment. “Yes—for the lover to whom I have alluded is the Prince of Wales,” rejoined Georgiana. “And it was the Prince of Wales who would have made a victim of me!” cried the Countess. “Then is it most singular that my love-story should have elicited yours, the hero being the same,” said the Duchess, by no means chagrined at COMIC OO© co