The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 238: what you’re looking at

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eee NN re en ee - nr afraid of being caught in the act of recommend- ing precipitation for once in his life, “having duly considered its eligibility. I do not think that I the bounds of propriety and pradence— certainly not those of the truth—when I state that 1 experience some decre> of interest in you, and will endeavour to help you on in the world.” “My lord, at this present moment,” returned Frank, “Ican decide upon nothing. It is clear that you will give me no information upon the point most vitally interesting to myself; and there- fore I need intrude on ydur lordship no longer.” Then, without waiting to ask if there were any rapidly descended the stairs, and issuing from the house, continued his way with the same towards the stree? indicated on the title-page of the book as that where ite publisher resided. Oh! to possess the portrait of her whom he-believed to be ais mother and whose image his mind treasured up, —fthat would at least be a mitigation of the sorrow he too often experienced when pondering upon the mystery that enveloped his parentage ! The street was not above half-an-hour’s walk from Portman Square for @ person snd so breathless was he on entering the shop, that he could not immediately give utterance to the words that trembled on the tip of his tungue. At length he stated what he required. “T have not a copy of that book left,” replied the publisher. “In fact the whole impression was sub- ecribed for before issued; and I do not think that ff you were to offer a hundred guineas you could procure a single copy. They all found their way into the hands of persons by no means likely to part with them.” Here was a disappointment. But suddenly en Sfiea struck the youth,—an idea which in the hurry and excitement of his rapid ran had not occurred to Rim before. The publisher most likely knew who was the-original of the engraving simply déseribed as “A Portrait ;” and in vehement haste did Frank put the question. “‘You seem, young man,” said the bookseller, “to be y excited. Is it for yourself, or for the family in whose service you are, that you want “Well, I do recollect that there was one eo de- scribed; and I believe it was simply because the lady herself had not enough vanity to wish her mame to be paraded. Bat I can’t for the life of me recollect who she was. I entrusted the getting-up of the book to the eminent engraver who undertook the plates; and he borrowed the ori pictures from the ladies themscives to make his from them. I left it all in his hands, and do not recollect anything more ebout that portrait you epeak of.” “ But the engraver—where does he live” “ He is dead,” replied the bookseller. “Dead!” echoed Frank, smitten with the de- epondency of renewed disappointwent. ‘“ Therc a w~X “~ & THE MYSTERIEG OF THE COURT. -| that this sudden and most =a ee ee eee oe. - oo hy Gine i Ghia, we Seeuapeim a ae o 237 seems to be a fatality about this. Have you not a single copy even for your own private use f” “TI am confident I have not,” replied the pub sher. “It was but the other day I was regretting to my wife that we had not saved one for ourselves —but such is the fact, I can assure you.” Francis lingered to ask a few more questions in the hope of discovering some means of gratifying his wishes: but nothing favourable transpired. He accordingly issued from the shop with a slowness of pace very different from the excitement with which he had entered it. He was bending his way mourn fully homeward, pondering upon all thet had taken place and inwardly wishing that be bad torn out the portrait from the book ere Lord Peterefield re- turned to the room,—when he suddenly heard a female voice exclaim, “Frank! Good God, is it possible P _ Yeo—it is—it ie—ho is alive !” That before the g page raised his eyes, a chord which vibrated to the depths of his heart; and glancing up, he beheld his sister. CHAPTER XLVIIL. THE BROTHER AND SISTER. 4 Ir was in the middle of a somewhat secluded street unexpected encounter took place: but had it been in the middle of Regent Stroet or any other of the most crowded thorough- fares of London, the brother and sister would have thrown themselves into each other's arms as they did then and there. The few passers-by at the time were naturally struck by beholding a very well- dressed lady of ly handsome appearance (for such the sister was) thus suddenly fold a livery- page in her arms: but the ejeculations which escaped their lips, explained the close kinship exist- ae oe lee my long-lost sister!” cried Frank in the witdernent of his wild oy dearest brother !” exclaimed the lady in accents of gushing enthusiasm: “it is indeed you—-and you are alive! Thank God, thank God!” Full evident indeed was it that both for the mo- ment that it was the open street and the broad daylight of a summer afternoon that they thus met. Expressiuns of sympathy were uttered around them by those who had paused to witness this affecting seene; and a shopkeeper standing on the threshold of his establishment, in face of which the oceurrence took place, considerately stepped for- ward and with much kindnéss of manner invited the brother and sister to walk into his house. They at once accepted the proposition; and the worthy tradesman, having conducted them up-stairs, to a neatly furnished 6, left them there. 2 oc ee ee ee eee ee ee = mm 6 ow ® 2 Caz al > aw 2a ew — Co The brother and sister being thus alone, and free - from observation, embraced again and again; and when the first excitement of feelings attendant upon this meeting was over, they naturally began to ask each other a thousand questions, so that neither for the first f€w moments could give any replies. It was a perfect torrent of tender and affectionate querisee—but no answers. | “My dear Frank,” said his sister, at length | laughing at the confusion into which the very ees- tacy of their emotion plunged them, “we shall - =P mew, «Qpeawse, @ 6; © eee Bew wee GON GoOO one %