The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 44: what you’re looking at

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came in feet—and her polished, warm forehead contact with his fine and open, but flushed and heated brow. Starting from his supplant posture, he threw the and hurriedly smoothing her dress and arranging her disordered hair, she turned upon him a look of mingled tenderness and reproach: but he strove to seize her fair hand in his own. ‘‘ Release me—for God's sake let me go!” she murmured: “my sister will return in a mo- meat——* ** And I will tell her that I love—that I adore you, charming Octavia!” interrupted Harley. ‘‘No—no—not yet!” said Octavia, yielding to him ber hand, and holding down her blushing ‘ Consider, Mr. Harley-——” by my Christian name, dearest,— call me George,” he , passing his arm yound her waist and drawing her gently towards him, until his cheek rested upon the glossy sur- face of her radiant hair. “Consider then, George,” she proceeded in a low, tremulous, yet tender tone, which seemed like the sound of a silver bell oscillating in a strong breeze,—“ consider that we have known each other for so short a time—that my father is “Well, then, my angel, we will for the present conceal our love,” said Harley. “ But do you— can you love me? Oh! now upon your reply all my happiness reposes !” And were I to answer in the affirmative,” said the rejoicing, exulting, but trembling girl, ‘“‘you would think——” “Only that you are as kind and tender as you are beautiful !” “What words would you have me speak ?— Oh! what would you have me say?” murmur- ingly inquired the agitated girl. Me ould beve yon tel me that you love me! —yes, love me as 1 love you!” responded Harley. “Tell me this, sweet maid !—adorable Octavia ! =—tell me this, and make me happy !—Oh! im- measurably happy !” : “ But—but,” she murmured, “if I did, you would deem me bold—forward~rash——inconside- rate——” “Oh! no—no! Ican never entertain a senti- ment injurious to you, my beloved Octavia!” in- ‘Oh! who can murmured Octavia, pressed all the tenderness of an engrossing pas- sion: then, after a few moment's pause, she ex- claimed, “Yes, George—I love thee !” thousand kisses upon her flashed and glowing countenance: again and again did he clasp her to his breast—and he could feel her bosom throbbing against his chest like the undulations of a mighty tide ebbing to and fro. Octavia was lost as it were in a new world of ineffable bliss: she felt like one who has suddenly passed from the mono- tony of a well-known and long familiar clime into a glorious land where streams are most pearly, foliage most green, flowers most beautifal, fruite most luscious, and the air most fragrant ; — and, forgetful of the past as well as reckless of the fatare, she abendoned herself to all the ecstacy, 3; and it was a species of poetic sen- erm currounded her as with a halo— bathing the cheeks in crimson hue and pouring a flood of light into the swimming eyes! While thus locked in Harley's fond embrace, Octavia thought not of her sister—nor of the danger of being discovered in that position—ner of anything save the elysian bliss which she de- rived from the new sentiments that animated her and the paradise which had thus been opened to her imagination’s enjoyment: and had opportu- nity served—had there been no fear of the sudden return of Pauline—Harley would have found her then and there an easy conquest. But strong though his passions were, yet was he enabled to comunand a certain amount of presence of mind; -—and gently separating from the confiding, loving girl, he said, “This is a heavenly dream of ha piness in which all worldly thoughts are ab- sorbed! But we must exercise prudence, my angel—and tis now for me to remind you that Pauline will soon return. Tell me, sweetest girl, can you possibly find an excuse to go out alone for an hour or two to-morrow evening? Nay— start not—I have so many things to tell you—so rouch to say to you, my beloved Octavia!” “Oh! do not ask me to act with such duplicity towards my sister!” murmured the young lady. “Duplicity, dearest?” said Harley, with a well-feigned air of surprise, yet blended with the softness of a re-assuring smile yes!—- duplicity!” repeated Octavia. “ Would it not be duplicity—deceit—dissimula- ‘* Heavens! that I should be deemed capable of urging you, my charmer, to such a course!” again interrupted the man of the world, with another look of surprise. ‘“‘No—never! I love you toe well, Octavia! Hear me!” “T will—I will! Speak! What do you mean?” asked the trembling girl COLT ©) NOOO) CO