The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

- PHE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. eo admirably sttited the haughty cast of ber aquiline countenance. The pearly whitences of the teeth remained in all its earliest perfection— the fires of youth still seemed flashing in her large dark eyee—and no streak of silver marred the raven blackness of her shining ‘hair. Her ladyship was clad in a dark dress trimmed with the richest lace. The room in which she was seated was spaciots, lofty, and splendidly furnished. The heavy crimson draperies at the windows subdued the powerful lustre of the sultry stin; and vases of flowers gave a freshness to the hot atid languid atmosphere of that sum- mer-day's noon. To the walls were suspended several fine pictures; and all objects in the apart- ment were reproduced in the splendid mirrors that appeared on every side. When Edmund entered the room he found his mother seated in an arm-chair near the centre table; and the grave severity of her look, as well as the drawn-up stateliness of her demeanour, at once convinced him that he was about to have what he termed “a scene.” Bat, for the reasons specified at the conclusion of the previons obapter, he resolved to adopt a conciliatory policy, if it were practicable; and therefore he somewhat mitigated theair of insolent defiance with which he had lately been wont to meet the maternal remonstrances or reproaches. Still his temper was on the point of failing him when he beheld the deep severity of his mother's looke—a severity not altogether unmingled with an expression of loathing and disgust, as her acrutinizing regerds embraced at a glance all the evidences Which his appearance furnished of the previous night's debauchery. “Sit down, Edmund,” said her ladyship; “for I wish to speak to you upon some matters of im- portance.” “Well, my dear lady-mother,” answered the youth, sinking languidly down upon a sofa, “ let tus hear what you have got to say, and you shall find me the most attentive of listeners.” “Be so good as to divest yourself of this most tunbecoming flippancy of manner,” proceeded Lady Saxondale, fixing her eagle eyes almost sternly upon the youth, ‘for it amounts to an imperti- hence which I do not choose to tolerate.” “Now, upon my soul, this is too bad ‘” cried Saxondale, his affected voice thrilling into a positive screech. “I made my appearance with the most dutiful demeanour that I could command for the occasiun: go if there's to be any quarrel, it will be of your picking.” “ Quarrel, sir! how dare you make use of this language to me ?” “ Come, mothe, don’t put yourself into a Dae “ 8ilence !—and listen to me. ‘You have lately been pursuing a career of the most degrading and revolting debauchery-——”" “'You have told me this over and over again, if that's all you wanted me for.” “ Again I enjoin you to silence,” interrupted Lady Saxondale fiercely , “ for remember, you are not yet your own master—and during the year and ten months which have yet to elapse ere you attain your majority, your guardians and myself are determined to do our duty in the endeavour to reclaim you from these vicious courses which you are pursuing. Now, Edmund,” she continued, in e somewhat milder tone, “I have besought—I EO eee have entreated—I have implored———I have like- wise scolded, threatened, and menaced———but al! to no purpose. With the deepest affliction do I behold you daily plunging more profoundly into the vortex of dissipation—constantly absent from home—remaining out late at nights—spending your mhoney heaven only knows how—and, I fear, frequenting the worst society.” “What do you mean?” exdaimed Edmund, sharply. “ Lord Harold Staunton is my constant companion: and he is the brother of the young lady whom you yourself selected as my future wife. “Florina ts an amiable, excellent, and well- principled girl,” said Lady Saxondale; “bat I regret to add that her brother is very different. She herself knows not—nor is {t proper that she should learn, the extent of the dissipations into which he plunges. She thinks him rather too gay, wild, and extravagant; but she does not suspect that he is a confirmed gambler, a reckless spendthrift, and an inveterate debauchee. Nor at the time when it was arranged that you should become her suitor, was I myself aware of the profligacy of hie character: or else perhaps I might have hesitated to initiate and sanction an engagement which thus threw you into such evil companionship. Bat it is now too late to retract from that engagement——” * Besides which it would be rather difficult to do so withont my consent,” interjected the youtlt- ful lord, flippantly. “I am deuced fond of the girl, and am quite willing to marry her to-morrow if you choose, instead of waiting for my majority.” ‘No, air,” interrupted Lady Saxondale sternly. “T have ona former occasion stated to you that by an addition to your father's will—an addition that was made within the month following your birth—it was chronicled as his solemn wish that you should not marry until you had obtsined your majority, but that you should then enter the wedded state as early as might be convenient.” * No doubt my father had a very high opinion of the wedded state,” observed Edmund, piqued by his mother’s tone and manner, “ since he him- self twice enterod it. Bat pray oontinue your observations: for to tell you the truth, I have got a thundering head-ache and want to go and lie down.” “Unhappy boy! you are adopting a suicidal course, by these profligacles and dissipations,” cried Lady Saxondale. “But beware! Tractable and obedient as Florina is to the will of her aunt, yet if her delicacy be shocked by a discovery of the full extent of your vices, she may assert her right to have her own happiness considered, and thus withdraw from the engagement.” “ No—J don’t think it at all likely,” rejoined the young man superciliously. “In the first place I know she is desperately fond of me: and in the second place, it is too good a match for her, poor and portionless as she is, to break off.” “J hope that your opinions are indeed well founded,” said Lady Saxondale. “But I will now come to the point and explain to you the purport for which I desired this interview. Your guardians, Lord Petersfield and Mr. Malton, paid mea visit yesterday; and we had a long and serious conversation together. They positively insist that I withdraw you for a time from the temptations of a London life; and I therefore propose that we repair to Saxondale Castle to CONNEC MOO SS COMM