The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 105: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

instant after she had disappeared THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. riers which had hitherto kept it pent up, she covered her face with her two email thin hands and sobbed now gtshed forth from her eyes, | bitterly. Angela Vivaldi did not immadintcly of apology: when Angela said, in the | expression of the sincerest sympathy, “it is so voice and with the sweetest manner pos- | hard to be compelled to dance when the soul is filled You have given no offence : it was a mis- | with anguish. Besides, it seams to be euch a dreadful girl’s words and manner, and also by the melan- choly look which, with her soft blue eyes, Henrietta bent upon the brilliant deneeuse; and turning round to her lady’s-maid, who was in attendance, Angela motioned her to shut the door, near the threshold of which Henrietta was still linger- “Alas, yes!” was the mournful reply. “It was im the middle of the ballet that I was scised with such a sudden sensation of indescribable woe, as the contrast was all in a moment forced upon my mind between the brilliant scene eproading out before me and the sorrowful one which I had left at home, and to which I am about to return.” “Now tell me your name, and everything that relates to you,” said Angela, in the kindest and ' scothing manner. “Now sit down,” continued Signora Vivaldi, | Henrietta answered the question by giving those taking the girl’s hand, and literally compelling her | few ing her mother and her concerning to ocoupy the chair to which she led her: for though | brother which we have already lightly sketched they were both dancers, yet as the reader has seen, | forth: then she added, with « sudden outburst of the ballet has ite aristocracy, and while poor Hen. | impassioned apprentice when waiting upon a duchess. tell me why you were weeping,” resumed Angela Vivaldi: “has annoyed you? Even now your heart is full, and you are sobbing. Maria,” she added, turning to her lady’s-miid, “give her a gises of wine—che is unwell.” Maria, who was a good-natured, steady, respect- able woman, midway between thirty and forty years of age, hastened to place a decanter of wine feeling, “ Ah! signora, it is not only cruel to suffer thus, but dreadful to think that through such sufferings the gold of the tempter often prevails! I have resisted bitherto: but heaven alone knows——”" She stopped suddenly short, and cast down her eyes in shame at Having even so far given an ex- pression to the dread apprehension that there was a possibility of her ultimately succumbing. ‘¢ Miss Leyden,” said the eminent danseuse, teking Henrietta’s hand, “you must ellow me to be of some service to you. But no one need know any- thing about it; and if you do not wish to continue your present avocation——However,” she observed, suddenly checking herself, as ahe felt that it would be imprudent to promise too much to one who was almost a total stranger to ber—for Angola knew little or nothing of the generality of the ballet- dancers: “however, we will talk more upon that subject on a fature occasion. Have the kindness te give me your addrese—there are writing-materials on the table before you—and to-morrow you will | | receive a visit from some one who may perhaps be inclined to assist you.” With these words Vivaldi rose from the seat which she had taken close to Henrietta; and advancing to a chest of drawers where her puree lay, she took out some mney, wrapped it up in a returning towards little piece of paper, and then the table where Henrietta was writing down her eg TT COMME MOO — —