The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 308: what you’re looking at

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

Ghep Gb-p- THE MYSTERIES. the cold breeze fan her burning brow and her flushed cheeks. Hastily putting on a modest bonnet and a simple scarf lined with furs, the Princess descended to the gardensd attached to the Castle. But perceiving some members of the royal household walking in those grounds, and wishing to give way in solitude to the thoughts which oppreseed her, she turned her steps in another direction and entered the park. 80 modest was her apparel—so mournful was her demeanour—so woe-begone her countenance—and so agitated her walk, that a stranger would never have suspected her to be one of the high-born and envied daughters of England’s Royalty. And, in truth, the young Princess was thoroughly wretched: for her soul was filled with the gloomiest presentiments in regard to her father—her eldest _beother—aye, her entire family;—and she could , not help thinking, within the profoundest recesses ' of her own heart, that there was a curse instead of a blessing attendant upon the British crown! Presently her thoughts sottled almost completely upon her eldest brother, the Prince of Wales; and 80 fally did she become absorbed in contemplating ‘his career and painfally wondering to what igno- minious catastrophe it would probably lead, that she forgot the scene which had ere now taken place at the Castle. It was while in this deeply reflective mood, that the Princess Amelia suddenly observed an indi- Yidual leaning in a melancholy attitade against a. tree. Tall, well-formed, and handsomely dressed, this person immediately rivetted her gaze: for she felt convinced that it was the object of her thoughts —her brother — George Prince of Wales. His érms were folded across his ample chest—his eyes were fixed on the ground—he was evidently ab- sorbed in deep meditation. “Ah thought the Princess within herself; “I understand the meaning of his presence here! Tor. tared by suspense, he is waiting for his emissaries, to learn the issue of their interview with our au- gust father. Poor brother! with all his faults I ‘love hima well—and more than ever now that I am confident he is unhappy! But at least it will be in " power to relieve him of that anxiety which is Wringing his soul at present: yes—I can so far _ Cheer him with the assurance that the peerage will be granted to Mr. Clarendon, and that the existing cause of a cruel embarrassment will therefore be | hushed up.” These ideas rushed through the brain of the tender-hearted and amiable Princess in far less me than we have occupied in recording them; and hastily approaching the individual who was , leaning against the tree, she threw herself upon his breast, overcome by her feelings—thus making him aware of her presence and her sorrow at the same instant. The individual started with an amazement which the Princess did not however perceive—for she was now blinded with her tears and suffocated with her sobs, All the features—all the details—all the particulars of the scene which had taken place within the hour, rushed to her mind :—her father’s homiliation — Meagies’ triumph —the mysterious docume=® —everything sprang into vivid being in her memory. And she knew that her brother was the cause of all the anguish, degradation, and dis- grace through which her sire had thus passed: she re ee recollected, moreover, that this same brother it was who had sent his emissaries to threaten, coerce, and intimidate that father whom she so fondly loved; and her gentle spirié was wounded sorely— her kind heart was rent with the cruel paroxysms which were only partially relieved by the torrents of tears that she now shed so abundantly, as she clung to the arms of him who supported her from “ O George, my dearest brother! what have you done?” she exclaimed at length, but in a voice half suffocated with sobs. “Is it possible that you could have had recourse to menaces in order to compel your father—your King-——” “In the name of heaven, illustrious lady—for that such you are, I gather from your words—be cautious what you say. There is some strange mistake——.” A shriek burst from the lips, of the Princess, as she started wildly from the half embrace in which she was held, or rather into which she had thrown herself: and casting one searching, penetrating, ago- nizing look upon the handsome though mournfal countenance which now wore an ¢xpression of the profoundest respect mingled with & tender interest, —she exclaimed, “Just heaven! what have I done?” And she would have fallen forward on the ground, had not the gentleman caught her in his arms. But she had fainted ! He threw a rapid look around : not a soul was nigh to render aid or run for saccour—the Castle was a mile distant—and there was not even a drop of water near to sprinkle apon the marble brow of the Princess—for such he concluded, from the words she had spoken, that she must be. Kneeling upon the grass, he sustained her in his arms—loosened the scarf lined with furs from about her neck—unfastened the ribands of her bonnet— ‘and thus did all he could, consistently with an ho- oourable delicacy and propriety, to give her air. Then, as she lay thus motionless and deprived of sense in his arms, he could not help being struck by the loveliness of her countenance and the softly rounded outlines of her figure. Even amidst the deep melancholy which filled his breast, there stole into existence a feeling of the tenderest interest as he thus contemplated the inanimate form of the Princess. Her face, from which all the colour had fled, was so exquisitely sweet and so touchingly beautiful in its death-like rigidity and its marble hue, that it appeared as if the dream of a poetic genias had been wrought into mimic life by the hand of the statuary. And as the individual who sustained her in his arms gazed on that coun- tenance, a deep, deep sigh rose from the pro- foundest abyss of his soul: for had any one a few minutes previously assured him that his feelings would be stirred so soon and his heart moved by the beauty of aught in female shape, he would have declared that love for him was asa flower which had faded in his soul—a leaf which had withered—and that naught could re-awaken the subtle passion, nor rekindle its volcanic fire to dart through the ruins it had once filled and scorched ! And now a tender bloom began to re-appear upon the cheeks of the Princess—a deeper tint suffased the lips that were now stirred with the wavering breath of returning animation—her bosom rose and fell slowly, bat visibly—and opening her azare COMGROO S COMM