The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 225: what you’re looking at

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¢ 214 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. it was to arrange matters for a future apprint-| rejoined the dousras “it is the return he makes ment——" "¢ question me any more now,” interrupted Stanton. “It is a very extraordinary story, and I will give you all the perticulars when we have obtained the proof that you are to seek for. 8o you must restrain your curiosity—and Miss Archer likewise. I suppose I can ses you here again to- morrow evening ?” “Yee—but what on earth is to prevent you from | “ staying here with us for a few days until this duel affair is blown over? You will give him hoase- room—won't Emily P” “Oh! with the greatest pleasure, if his lordship will condescend to accept such hospitality es my humble residence affords :”—but the look of proud satisfaction which the danssuse cast around the exquisitely-farnished room, was in flet contradiction to the humihty of her words. “An offer eo kindly made cannot be rejected,” remarked Staunton, with a smile. accept your hospitality, and will instal myself here for a few days.” Throughout the whole of this discourse the cham- pagne bottle was frequently put into requisition ; and it was not until a late hour that Staunton was conducted to the chdmber appropriated to his use. In the morning breakfast was served at about ten o’olock ; and this repast, like the supper of the previous night, consisted of all imaginable deli- cacies. It was about eleven when Lord Saxondale took his for the purpose of accomplishing his pleasant and agreeable little task of endeavour- ing to discover proofs damnatory to Lady Saxon- dale’s reputation. Lord Harold Steunton remained alone in the beautifully-farnished parlour with Miss Emily Archer; and no sooner was Edmund out of sight, than a great and sudden change took place in the bearing of these two towards each other. The courteous respect with which Harold had treated the handsome danseuse while Edmund was present, now turned into the familiarity of closest intimacy. “Well, my dear Emily,” said Harold, “you have got my friend Edmund tolerably tight and secure m your silken chains. But no wonder: for you are inty handsomer than ever.” “I would rather receive those few words of com- pliment from your lips, Harold,” was the lady's response, “than ten thousand of the mawkish and insipid fistteries which that frivolous fellow Saxon- dale bestows upon me. But come, sir—why do you not embrace me for old acquaintance’ sake P” “That shall I do most cheerfully,” rejoined Staunton: and he suited the action to the word. “so you find my friend Saxondale somewhat in- sipid ?” he continued, placing himself by the beauti- fui dancer’s side upon the sofa where ahe was half- reclining in her morning segligée. “Of course you and I can talk these matters over | Then confidentially between us,” replied Emily; “and therefore we may admit to each other that of all the frivolous, foolish, conceited coxcombs, Edmund Sax- ondale is the worst. I really do not know one re- deeming quality that he “ Except the seal which he displays in eurround- ing you with all luxuries and comforts,” remarked Harold: “is i¢ not so?” “But that is cunferring no boon upom me,” nt for the show of love with which I honour him. [ understand be is engaged to be married to your sister? I hetve seen Lady Fiorina in her box at the Opera: what a beautiful girl she is! and what a@ sacrifice to bestow her on such a being as Saxon- dale |* “ My dear Emily, we must not touch upon that point,” returned Lord Harold, somewhat gravely. in high life, you know, are not always affairs of the heart, and there is not much trouble taken to assort them with the nicest regard to out- ward looks or mental And now let us the discourse and talk upon any other topic you please. We have the prospect, I suppose, of being many hours together; and therefore we must render ourselves as agreeable es possible to ws. before “ Ase you sorry at having this prospect you ?” inquired Emily, with a look of mingled areh- and tenderness. “JI therefore | ness “Sorry indeed! how could that be possible? Are you not as charming as ever—or indeed mere charm- ing P for as I said just now, you are handsomer than when you and I used to be tolerably well acquainted a couple of years ago. Tell me, have you been happy since then ? Bat I need scarcely ask. I have seen you bounding with joyous elasticity upon the stage; and I find sou osoupying ® moet beautiful little suburban residence. But tell me candidly, my dear Emily—how many lovers have you bad during these two years past P’’ “ Well, I will tell you candidly, my dear Harold,” responded the handsome but profligate danscnes, ously fascinating and enchanting: end then, in the same playful mood, she counted off the names as she mentioned them on the tips of her long taper fingers with their rosy-tinted and almond- shaped nails. “ First there was Lord Everton : but though he was very liberal and behaved very well indeed, I was obliged tu turn him off; for he was so made up with falsities and artificialities—I mean im respect to his toilet—that he was absolutely repal- sive to me. Then there was the Rev. Mr. Tarleton, opinions are so strongly very well, though he had not near so much money to bestow upon me as Lord Everton: but he would insist that I should go to his church twice every Sunday. Hoe said that he could preach so much better when he saw me in my pew: he felt that he was preaching for some one whose admiration he most of all loved to secure. He cared nothing about his wife, who is really a very handsome woman, being present in her pew: that, he said, was by no means the same thing. Well, I went for five or six Sundays: but I soan got tired of it—and because I flatly refused to go again, we quarrelied and parted. Then circumstances threw me under the protection of Patrick O’Flanaghan, the Member for Blarney- ville; and as he drove a dashing four-in-hand, kept plenty of servants, and lived at a first-rate hotel, I thought him a great catch. Now, to tell you the truth, my dear Harold, I was shamefully deceived by that man. He drank up every drop of wine and spirite that I had in my cellar—borrowed every farthing of money I had saved up—and even made me pledge my jewels to provide him with freab ECOMRRICLO© (C SS CO