The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

a a _- 6 ee THE MYSTERIES. eM lt Ke \\“ I UUTATVAAL TRS ~' = ~ =e z AS > 4 i <S)) as 2 — J & y Nf / mn %yy)))) coe Ne. ly g% { Pa s(t mh ‘ mantle Sh Mh Wil ) Wa udtnt Wut Ses \S ity eg er => — \| now. A few months back, and she would have died to save him from even the slightest pang: but when the fatal conviction burst upon her that she was be- trayed by a faithless seducer, she vowed that she would devote herself to a deadly vengeance.” “Tt must be for you to reason with her, Eleanor,” observed the nobleman. “In a few minutes Mr. Eaton will be here—and in the evening, if you can make it convenient, you might pay a visit as pri- vately and secretly as possible to my unhappy niece.” “Nothing shall prevent me,’ answered the Countess. “ But you must now excuse me for a few minutes, while I make some change in my toilette —as I cannot receive Mr. Eaton in this deshabillée.” The lady quitted the room: and in about a quar- ter of an hour she returned, dressed in an elegant manner. If she were charming in her negligent attire, she was now superbly handsome in the dark velvet dress which she wore. Her hair, previously 18 ee Sg a) \ arranged in massive bands, now fell in locks of raven brightness upon her naked shoulders; and instead of the negligent morning cap, pearls as beautiful and as costly as those of Cleopatra encircled her polished brow. The exquisite grace of her form—the sta- tuesque carriage of the arching neck and well-pro- portioned bust—the elegance of her movements— and the mild, though dignified expression which animated her features,—all combined to render her a being of whom an adoring husband might well be proud. Searcely had the Countess of Desborough resumed her seat on the sofa, when a domestic, attired in a sumptuous livery,—that disgusting trumpery which degrades the man into the menial, and which, thank God! the noble-minded Americans have cast off from amongst them,—threw open the door of the apartment, and announced the Honourable Mr. Eaton. The only sonof Lord Marchmont was, as we hava com GbooksSreom