The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 107: what you’re looking at

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96 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. “ My dear Clarine,” said Zoe, “ you must exert all your fortitude to retain your self-possession. It would add infinitely to your father’s afflictions if he were to learn that Marguerite has betrayed his confidence-—which she evidently has done. Surely, surely there must, have been some strong motive for her to tell you all this?” Clarine said nothing: but again she buried her countenance in her kerchief; and for several minutes appeared to be the prey of emotions which Lady Octavian Moredith considered as too profoundly sacred to be intruded upon by farther questioning. CHAPTER CIII. THES SOLEMN INJUNCTION. Tx ladies presently retraced their way towards the Chateau. Clarine had now become more calm: indeed she was evidently doing her best to com- pose her feelings and tranquillize her countenance, in case she should meet her futher. Zoe consi- derately avoided a return to the topic of the pre- vious conversation: for she understood full well wherefore Mademoiselle Volney was thus endes- vouring to conquer her feelings—or at least to assume an outward serenity; and her amiable English friend would not willingly disturb her in that attempt. Zoe therefore discoursed upon general subjocts, as they slowly wended their way back to the old Chateau: but Clarine only an- ewered in a few words—sometimes in mere mono- syllables :—she was deeply pre-occapied. When the Chateau was reached, the ladies se- parated to their chambers for the purpose of putting off their walking-apparel; and Zoe had now more leisure to reflect upon all that she had eo recently heard. It was indeed, as she herself had expressed it, a tale of wildest romance: and well—too well did it account for M. Volney’s sombre moods, for his love of self-isolation, and for those long solitary walks which he was in the habit of taking, as if thereby courting opportanities to be as much alone as possible with his own thonghte. But there was one thing which bewildered Lady Octavian Meredith. She could not possibly con- ceive for what motive Marguerite had made such painful revelations to Clarine Volney. The old Frenchwoman had the air of a person possessed of generous feclinge—her kindness towards Clarine had been the subject of the young lady’s grateful eulogy: but Zoe could only regard that lifting of the veil from the mysteries of the past as a most unnecessary piece of crucity on old Marguerite’s aide. Wherefore so rudely awaken a daughter from a dream in which she had taught herself to love and respect her mother’s memory ?—where- fore breathe in her ears the tale of that mother’s guilt P—wherefore disenchant her of the vision which had so innocently and in such sweet filial confidence delineated a halo as encircling a mo- ther’s name ?—and why (ob, cruaellest detail of all!)—why plunge a dagger so deeply into Clarine’s heart by the hideous intelligence that he whom she had looked upon as her father, enter- tained a horrible doubt as to his right of pater- ty ° In this channel flowed the reflections of Lady Octavian Meredith: but her surmises could fur. nish no possible solution for old Marguerite's con- duct. She was loath to come to the conclusion that it was a wanton act of cruelty or inoonsider- ateneas—especially as all Marguerite’s antecedents appeared, from what Zoe had that day heard, to be characterized by fidelity and affection towards the family whom she served, as well as by general prudence and discretion. Had the old woman, therefore, some special motive ?—was her conduct based upon good grounds ?—Zoe was bewildered what to think. She repaired to the drawing-room,—where she found Clarine seated in a pensive mood at the window ; and thinking to enliven her, Lady Octa- vian proposed to play upon the new piano. Then Clarine burst into tears. “‘He who so kindly gave me that piano yester- day,” said the afflicted young lady, “doubts whether I am really his daughter! And yet how generous of him thus to minister unto my whims and caprices! A thought occurred to me yester- day—and it was for the first time in my life—that the conduct of my father——for by that name must I ever call him——had been deficient in the tenderness of affection which a parent shows to- wards achild. But now, after all I learnt last night, I ought to wonder that he has evor shown me any love or kindness at all! Ob, my dear Zoe, with these dreadful ideas that are now floating in my brain, I feel as if I myself were utterly, utterly unworthy of all regard—all kind- ness on my father’s part!” , “Speak not thus, dear Clarine,” said Lady Octavian: “you are not responsible for your mother’s frailty. You must conquer your feelings —indeed, indeed you must! You do not wish your father to perceive that there is anything strange or unusual with you; and yet you are adopting the very course which may betray to him that your knowledge of to-day is far different from your knowledge of yesterday !” The amiable Zoe continued to reason in this manner, and to give her friend Clarine the best possible advice. She even induced her to sit down and practise at the new piano: but the unhappy Mademoiselle Volney, though doing her best to assume a uil exterior, nevertheless seemed as if she had received a blow from which she would never recover. During the dinner-time Zoe was in a continuous apprehension lest M. Volney should notice the fre- quent moods of pre-occupation and abstraction into which Clarine fell: but fortunately he did not—or if so, he appeared not to be conscious of the circumstance. He retired as usual to his study soon after dinner : the two ladies passed the evening together; and though Lady Octavian exerted herself to her utmost to cheer Clarine’s spirite, the attempt was evidently ineffectual: for when Clarine forced herself to smile, it was in so sickly a manner that the unhappy young lady’s countenance appeared to reflect all the anguish of a breaking heart. As the evening deepened, and the usual hour of separation was drawing nigh, Zoe’s amiable and considerate disposition suggested an idea, which, she flattered herself, would be fraught with solace to her sulfering friend. Se od po CONNIE LOO COMM |