The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 239: what you’re looking at

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

228 THE MYSTERIRG OF THE OOURT. upon the mantel-piece. But Baron Louis would not accept the atnount: he declared, with all that exquisite politeness which characterises a French gentleman, that not being in this .geighbourhood for a professional parpose, he could only exercise his skill in the way of friendship, and therefore ‘would not think of being rewarded. In short, he used so many arguments that it was impossible for Zoe to persevere in her endeavour to force the fee upon him; and with renewed expressions of gratitude she took her departure, accompanied by her friend Clarine. _ “X know not, my dear Zoe,” said Mademoiselle Volney, as they were returning homeward to the Chateau, “that I ever experienced more heartfelt satisfaction than at the instant when this good and kind man pronounced his opinion. Oh, what a change of prospect is now opened before your mental vision! But good heavens! you are weep- ing ~——-Oh! how you are weeping, my sweet friend ![—and there is an agony in the source of these tears |” “If it be heaven's will that my life should be prolonged to a span greater than I hed antici- pated,” answered Lady Octavian Meredith, “I must submit. Bat, Oh, Clarins! how can you me to be joyous and happy? There might have been that feeling for a moment—and yet I know not whether there was: but now that I have leisure for reflection, I am compelled to ask myself -—and I ask you likewise—what have I worth living for P” “You must live in the hope chat happiness may yet be your’s,” replied Mademoiselle Voiney. “Ah! my dear friend, I am about to say some thing which costs me a pang: but I am impelled by a sense of duty. I love you: a variety of cir- cumstances has tended to establish a firm bond of friendship and affection between us—a bond which, I hope, death alone shall be enabled to break ; and therefore does it afflict me to think of separation. Nevertheless we must separate—and perhaps sooner too than I had expected—because, my dear Zoe, it is your duty to return to your husband.” “What! to render him unhappy P” exclaimed Lady Octavian. “Ah, my dear Clarine! if that physician has just now told me that I may expect to live, you are on the other hand telling me how to invite the presence of death in the shortest and most effective manner; for my heart would break if I were to return to England to encounter all that I passed through for some months ere I came upon the Continent! I had hoped to die soon, Clarine ——— yes, I had hoped to die soon —in order that I might leave Octavian free to follow the bent of his own inclinations.” “You have already made too many sacrifices on that point, dear Zoe ; and you must make no more. It is not for you to yourself utterly and completely for the sake of others: but it is for them to make sacrifices also. Have you not told me that your husband is naturally good and rous, and that Christina Ashton is herself a model | Of purity and virtae?—aend if it is with such beings that you have to deal, wherefore should all the sufferings and the secrifices be upon your side P Think you that your husband will not do every- thing to conquer his own passion f—and think you that Christina’s sense of delicacy, her feminine pride, and her good feeling, have not already led her to stifle whatsoever love Lord Octavian may have inspired her with P” “Ab, Clarine!” responded Zoe, “can you ask me these questions,—you who have loved and still love so tenderly and eo well? Did you find it s0 easy to stifle love in your bosom? did even a father’s mandates or injunctions ———” * Zoe,” interrupted Clarine, speaking in a low half-hushed voice, “it is the truth which you are proclaiming from your lips; and everything you state affords an additional proof of the weakness of us poor mortals. Bat, good heavens! what will youdoP The ekill of science has jast ascertained the fact that your young life may be prolonged until it grows old: and are you to pass all these years in misery—volunterily separated from the husband whom you love—expatriated afar from your sire, your friends, and acquaintances? Oh, the affection which I bear for you might prompt me selfishly to rejoice at the prospect of having you altogether and for ever with mer but, on the other hand, I heave a regard for yoar happiness; and that very friendship which I experience for you, will prevent me from seeing you make the most unheard-of sacrifices, and martyrising yourself to an extent that has no parallel in the history of woman !” “And yet,” said Zoe, in that same sweet voice of mild resfgnation in which for a long time past she had been accustomed to speak, “ those sacrifices must be made—that self-martyrization must be accomplished ! If cireumstances prevent me from ensuring my own happiness, I may at least be per- mitted the satisfaction of doing my best to ensure the happiness of others. And now, my dear friend, you will oblige me by abandoning this topic for the present. It is not on the eve of your bridal day that you are to be saddened by the infectious influence of my sorrows. Besides,” continued the amiable lady, smiling, “I wish to be gay—and— and—happy——as happy as possible on this ocea- sion! Am I not to accompany you to Fontaine- blean ? and shall we not some days or weeks hence have ample leisare to discuss all the cireamstances which regard myself? Then, my dear Clarine, you shall proffer me your counsel : but for the present,” added Zoe, somewhat abruptly, “let us avert our attention from the subject.” “ At least there is one thing you promise me ?” said Mademoiselle Volney,—“ one thing wpon which I must insist,—that you follow the advice which Baron Louis has given, and that you will seek the earliest ity of obtaining competent medical treatment? Doubtiess at “Fontainebleas we ‘shall find teustworthy and talented prac- titioners-—— * Yes, Clarine,” answered Zoe, “I shall fulfil my duty in that respect: for you have this even- ing convinced me by yur eloquent reasoning thet the life of us mortals is not our own to be disposed of as we will; but it is a trust confided to us, to be cherished, watched over, and cared for tc the utmost of our power.” Mademoiselle Volney, yielding to her friend’e wishes, abandoned the topic upon which they hed previously been conversing, although it was with Feluctance that she did #0 80 ; ‘for ebe experienced the warmest affection for Lady Octavian Meredith, and she did not like the mood into which Zoe had relapsed, nor the representations she had made COMME HOG cS) (CO