The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 128: what you’re looking at

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ua GEES eee THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT, “But I am not alone, dear girl,” said Loftus, when the first ebullition of transport had somewhat subsided. “I have brought with me a young lady ea whom you must bestow the kind regard and com- passionate sympathy which your generous disposi- tion will not refuse when you are acquainted with her sad history.” The noblest mind and the purest affection are too often prone to be susceptible of jealousy; but Louisa Stanley was an exception to the general rule. She was too innocent—too artless—too unsophisti- cated to dream of the possibility of Jocelyn loving another: she judged him by herself—and she erred not in so doing—for he was in every way deserving of her confidence. Therefore, when she beheld Mary Owen and heard the manner in which her lover introduced the unhappy young lady to her notice and recommended her to her sympathies, Louisa at once and unhesi- tatingly proffered her hand, saying, “ You are wel- come to my humble abode.” The kindness of tone in which these words were uttered and the endearing gentleness of Louisa’s man- ner, instantaneously touched the most susceptible chords in Miss Owen's heart; and yielding to the impulse of this sudden effusion of feeling, she threw herself into the young maiden’s arms and wept upon her bosom as she murmured forth her thanks for the tender weloome just vouchsafed. The chaise was dismissed — Louisa conducted Jocelyn and Miss Owen into her neat little parlour —and Mary the servant-girl bustled about to spread the table with the contenta of her larder. The lamp was lighted—the curtains were drawn over the win- dows—and ap air of comfort pervaded the room. Jocelyn and Louisa exchanged looks of the pro- foundest, holiest love,—and an affectionate pressure of the hands again conveyed a mutual assurance of the joy which they experienced at thus meeting once more, although their separation had been so short. Even poor Mary Owen began to appear more cheer- ful, at the spectacle of the innocent happiness and pure delight which ahe thus witnessed. After supper, Miss Owen expressed a desire to withdraw to the chamber which had been pre- pared for her reception,—not only because she was much wearied, but likewise because she knew that Jocelyn and Louisa most naturally have many things to say to each other. And it was so: for on the one hand the young gentleman had t re- cite the particulars of his interview with Clara, and also to narrate to his well-beloved as much as with propriety and delicacy he could tell of Mary Owen’s sad history; while on the other hand, Louisa had to undertake the painful task of describing the outrage which she had experienced on the part of the Minor Canon of Canterbury Cathedral. Jocelyn Loftus felt his blood boil with indigna- tion as he heard this narrative; and starting from his seat, he vowed that he would hasten without delay and overwhelm the infamous Bernard Aud- ley with reproaches. But Louisa besonght him, with tears in her eyes, to calm himself; and when she placed in his hands the letter written by the lady in black, he yielded to her entreaties that he would take time to deliberate ere adopting any particular course with regard to the Minor Canon. He then expressed his satisfaction that Louisa had thus frankly communicated the particulars of the outrage, instead of withholding them from him, as a Gaeaae———wt yg weeny pe SEE By 115 she might have done through the best of motives: but the young lady declared that she never should retain anything ggcret from him whom she loved and in whom she placed all her confidence. Reverting to a more agreeable topic, the lovers again spoke of Clara Stanley. Jocelyn assured Louisa that her sister was in the enjoyment of the best health and was no doubt happy; and he then |; produced the packet of which he was the bearer. It contained a letter and a complete set of dia- monds which Clara stated that the bounty of Mr. and Mrs. Beckford enabled her to send as a gift to her beloved sister. The epistle was along one, . and full of the tenderest assurance of affection and the best possible advice most delicately and feelingly conveyed. Louisa wept over that fond communication from her sister—a communication which she valued ten thousand times more than the splendid present that accompanied it. The conversation between the lovers now turned upon Mary Owen; and, without alluding to the in- famous means which had been adopted to corrupt and demoralize the minds of the four sisters, Jocelyn explained sufficient to render Louisa acquainted not only with Mary’s sorrowful position, but also with the atrocious conspiracy that was afoot against the peace, happiness, and honour of the injured Princess of Wales. Louisa was naturally shocked when she learnt that such cold-blooded and diabolical villany was in the course of perpetration ;—and she shed tears at the thought of the position in which the unfor- tunate wife of the Prince Regent was placed. And while those tears yet glistened upon her long lashes, she exclaimed, “O Jocelyn! surely, surely you will warn the Princess of the terrible dangers which environ her !” “Ah! my beloved Louisa,” he cried, carrying her fair hand to his lips, “I am rejoiced that this suggestion should have emanated from you! You fpel for one of your own sex, although personally a stranger to you;—and you would not be happy if you thought that this tremendous secret which has come to our knowledge, were to remain locked up in our own breasts. No—it must be breathed elsewhere—it must be communicated to the Prin- cess herself—and she must be placed upon her guard against the machinations of her enemies. — But by the agents and creatures of these enemies is she no doubt already so completely surrounded, that her very letters are liable to interception— — the sanctity of any correspondence addressed to her will probably be violated—and it must there- fore be by verbal communication and a personal interview that the solemn warning can alone be given to her in safety.” “Qh! my beloved Jocelyn,” exclaimed Louisa, the tears streaming down her cheeks, “it is for you to fly and impart that solemn warning to the persecuted Princess Caroline! Even were the adoption of this course to delay our union for many months instead of a few weeks, I am not so selfish as to study my own happiness to the prejudice of an injured, wronged, and outraged woman. It is a Christian duty to warn her of the conspiracy — which is multiplying all its dreadful engines of de- struction around her.” “Louisa, your conduct on this occasion is most | noble—most admirable,” exclaimed Jocelyn, as he . contemplated the beautiful girl with all the enthu- _I a EOMICOOOKS. conn