The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 234: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES “Ask him, Sir Frederick—ask him!” exclaimed Anastatia: “he is bere—he will tell the truth— he will not see his own sister trampled down into the dust! Ask him, I say, who it was thas I met at Madame Angélique’s house !” But Sir Frederick Latham waited not for what- soever response the Viscount would have given to this appeal. A wild cry of joy buret from the lipe of the City merchant: it seemed ae if all in a moment his nature had become changed: his business like coldness vanished—hig eountenance grew full of the expression of excited feelings; and flinging hie arms round Anastatin’s nock, he ex- alsimed, “ Pardon! pardon!” It wae now a most affecting seene. That proud scion of the moneyocracy was melted at the bliss- ful thought that his wife, the lovely daughter of the aristocracy, was after all worthy of him ;—end she forgot everything except the one idea that she Was restored to her husband’s confidence. And both alike forgot for several minutes the presence of Lord Rushbrook, who, retreating into a window recess, sat watching thie scone with an interest which though deep, was nevertheless altogether selfish ; for i¢ occurred to him that while there was peace-making in one quarter, there might be forgiveness for himeelf. And now Sir Frederick Latham led his wife into another wiodow-recess; and there they sat down and conversed together. It was the moment for explanations; and Anastatia’s were given in the following manner :— * You remember, my dear husband, that the first incident which rendered you intimate with our family, was that dreadful ciroumstance of my brother’s crime—the forgery which he committed in the name of the Marquis of Swaleciiffe. That bill fell into your hands : my father went to you— and you promised to save my brother from expo- sure. But the Marquis of Swalecliffe himself ap- peared to be inexorable. My brother was not really upon the Continent; be was eoncealed at the house of his tailor, M. Bertin. Oh, bow pein- ful it is for me to review all these things! And yet it is needful now: for the explanation must be given. Yes—do not interrupt me: I will pro- ceed. My father and rhother bad vowed that never again would they see Robert: he dared not some to the house—he dared not go to you :—what was he to do in that fearful dilemma? He wrote a letter to me: he besought me to meet him : he told me that my own milliner, who lived next doot to his temporary lodging, would arrange an interview. Utterly unsuspicious of the fright- fal riek which my reputation wees incurring, I went to Madame Angelique’s. I dared not men- tion my brother’s name: for he knew not at the time, nor did I, whether the Marquis of Swale- cliffe might not have given information to the police to capture him ; and it was therefore requi- bite to use every possible precaution. I merely asked for the gentleman who was waiting to eve me. Ob, that Robert should have eo frightfally perilled the good namie of his own sister |’’ Anastatia’s tears rained down her cheeks. Sir Frederick, with more kindness than he had ever displayed towards her, besought her to desist from ber explanations, for that he himeelf was perfectly satisfied : but again wiping away her tears, she in- sisted upon proceeding. OF THER COURT. 223 “IT saw Robert there—I met him in that place, which I little indeed suspected to be a scene of gilded infamy. He wrote a letter to the Marquis of Swalecliffe, dated from Brussels, and beseeching him to be merciful. This letter RB bert implored me to forward to the Marquis, with a note from myself to the effect that I would receive whatso- éver reply bis lordship might vouchsafe. Iu that note whick I penned to the Merquis, I added » prayer in support of the one my brother had already addressed to him. His lordship seat me & prompt answer. He said that for my eake he would do that which otherwise lhe had been ra. solved not todo. It was necessary thet I should see my brother again, to communicate this re- sponse; and [ saw him at the same place. Two or three times subsequently I saw him there, to report how the negutiation was progressing with yourself. Through your means the difficulty was settled, and my brother in due time affected ta have returned from the Continent. Now, my dear husband, you comprehend how it was that [ visited the interior of Madame Angeliqae’s estab- lishment on a few occasions prior to my marriage.” “ And doudtioss, Anastatia,” observed Sir Fre- derick, “it was for a similar reason, after marriage, when your profligate brother again fell into diili- culties, and when some usurious attorney threut- ened to proceed against him criminally 7 “ Yes,” responded Anastatia, “ again did he pree tend to fly to the Continent—aguin was it given out that be had gone to Paris or Brussels, that the officers of the law might be tbrown off the soent You remember, my dear husband, you strictly for- bade me to-hold any communication with my brother: but what could I do wien he privately travemitted to me the most pathetio letters, de- claring that he was in poverty—impluring me to seo hin? In a word, I wont! Alas, it was so easy to pretext a visit to my milliner’s; and as heaven is my witness, I suspected not the cha- racter of that house! And [ am convinced, my dear husband, that by many and many a laiy- friend of mine was ite character equally unsus- pected———” ‘‘No doubt, Anastatia,” interjected Sir Hredo- rick ; “and it was by the merest accident that [ myself one day learnt from the impertinent com- municativéness of some fashionable debauchee the infamous traffic which Madame Angelique was earrying on. I was astounded; and as a matter of duty I at once warned you of the obaracter of tbat house.” “And I aleo was astounded!” answered Anas- tatia; “and I hed not the moral coarage to make you that confession which, if eandidly given at the time, would have saved us so much misery tu-day. But a sense of shamo—deep burning shame, —or ehall I say wounded modesty—sealed my tonyue. I could not look my husband in the face and con- feea to him that I had penetrated within the walls of that den of infamy. I therefore held my peave. Bat, Ob! when next I saw my brother, how bit- terly did I reproach him for the frightful risk which he had made me run! Alas! you know his menoer—he endeavoured to laugh it flippantly away—end then he pleaded ignorance of the nature of that establishment; acd if I did not altogether believe him, at least I forgave him. Yet ever mpoe that day on which your revelation ~ —— | COMIC OOOlK<S conn