The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 282: what you’re looking at

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

LE TE i aS ssi THE MYSTERIES. 267 implore you—by that friendship which I now proffer you and which I ask you to vouchsafe me in re- turn ——” “Fear not, dear lady, that [ shall ever breathe a word calculated to give you offence,” interrupted the Countess of Desborough: then, without deigning even to notice the Prince of Wales, she said, “ You will have the kindness to accompany me back to the ball rooms; so that, if my absence has been per- ceived, it may be supposed that I have been in your society during the interval.” “ Certainly,” exclaimed Mrs. Fitzherbert, instantly recognising the prudence of the step thus suggested ; then, turning towards the Prince of Wales, she said in a cold tone of reproach, *“ Have you no apology to offer to this generous-hearted lady ?” “The Countess of Desborough will accept none at my hands,” said the heir-apparent, doggedly. “Tt were a miserable affectation on my part— indeed, it would amount to a piece of sycophancy of which I am utterly incapable,” observed Eleanor, “ were I todeclare that any apology, however humble, could appease the indignation which I experience. On that head, therefore, my dear Mrs. Fitzherbert, let no morebesaid. Henceforth the Prince of Wales will treat me with ceremonious courtesy — and [I shall behave towards him with reserved and cold respect, Let such be the understanding; and on that condition, I shall never breathe a word relative to the incidents of this night. And it will be the fault of his Royal Highness,” she added significantly, “if I do not carry the secret thereof to.my grave.” “T understand your ladyship,” said the Prince, assuming a stern and haughty air: “but be wel! assured that, after everything which has passed in this chamber within the last half-hour, I am now led to hate you as cordially as ever I felt interested in you.” “The hatred of your Royal Highness will prove much more tolerable to me than your love,’ ex- claimed Eleanor, the natural pride and dignity of her sex dictating this cutting taunt. And the Prince felt the withering sarcasm and writhed under it—although he affected to turn aside and hum an opera-air. But, Oh! for Aim—the worshipped, idolized, and deified heir-apparent to be thus treated with indifference,—for him—the hand- somest man and most fascinating gentleman in Europe to be thus spurned as it were by that in- dignant and haughty but noble-minded lady,—Oh! it was intolerable ;—and the very tune which he af- fected to hum, hissed between his lips like a reptile’s craving for vengeance! But, without waiting to observe the result which her retort had produced, the Countess of Desborough unlocked the door—threw it open—and made way for Mrs. Fitzherbert to pass. But this lady whis- pered, with a half-smile, “ Remember that I am not to be known by you as the Princess of Wales ;’—and the Countess accordingly went forth first, Mrs. Fitz- herbert following close behind. The ante-chamber was traversed, and Eleanor was about to open the outer-door, when the Prince of Wales suddenly exclaimed, “ Stop for a single mo- ment !” The two ladies paused accordingly: but Mrs, Fitzherbert only turned towards him. And it was to her that asudden idea had prompted him to utter a few words. “You are about to seek again the company whom I have invited to Carlton House this evening,” he said, in a low and impressive tone. ‘‘ Now, it either becomes necessary for me to return amongst them also—or for you to circulate a rumour of sudden in- disposition as a plea for my absence.” “ And wherefore can you not return to the ball- rooms—presently ?” demanded Mrs. Fitzherbert, in a cold tone, and with a strong emphasis upon the last word, as much as to imply that he must not think of offering to accompany herself and Eleanor, as his presence would not be otherwise than dis- pleasing to the latter. ““Yes—I will return presently,” said the Prince,— “if I am assured that I shall not become the focus for your angry looks.” “Would you have me very amiable towards you?” demanded Mrs. Fitzherbert, in a tone of bitter irony. “Oh! you deserve it ——” “ Perdition !—begone—leave me!” ejaculated his Royal Highness: and retreating, in a towering rage, into the bed-chamber, he slammed the door vio- lently. * Come, dear Lady Desborough,” said Mrs. Fitz- herbert, exercising wonderful command over her feelings: “we must saunter back to the ball-rooms with countenances as serene and smiling as if no- thing unusual had occurred. It may be that some of my friends have been to seek me in my own apartments—and we will therefore say, if questioned, that we have visited the picture-gallery. By the bye, that young lady whom you introduced this evening is a sweet pretty creature,’ observed Mrs. Fitzherbert, casting a rapid and searching glance at Eleanor’s countenance, in order. to ascertain if there had been any particular motive in presenting Pauline Clarendon to the Prince. “She is not only beautiful—but as amiable and virtuous as she is lovely,” said the Countess, “In a few weeks she will become Lady Florimel.” “So much the better,” thought Mrs. Fitzherbert; “ for the Prince was certainly struck with her.” But she did not breathe these sentiments aloud ;— and now the two ladies once more entered the glit- tering sphere of beauty, rank, and fashion. Mrs. Fitzherbert’s intimate knowledge of the Prince’s disposition enabled her to judge that he would not return to the ball-rooms again that night, —butthat he would retire to his own apartments and drown his disappointment, rage, and humiliation in the bottle or the punch-bowl : she accordingly spread the report that his Royal Highness had been seized with a sudden indisposition; and the entertainment therefore broke up at an earlier hour than it would otherwise have done. CHAPTER LXXVI. A STRANGE VISITRESS.—A WELCOME PROPOSAL. THE scene now changes to Mr. Clarendon’s house in Cavendish Square, It was about half-past ten o’clock in the morning —breakfast was over—and the father, leaving his two lovely daughters in the parlour, retired to a room which had been fitted up as his library or study. Mr. Clarendon’s countenance has already been described as thin, sallow, and having an indelible stamp of melancholy traced upon its lineaments: but it now appeared actually care-worn and expressed ee ane (C(O) nn) (C 6)(0)©) Ho(CO)