The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 285: what you’re looking at

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- stupor of surprise and bewilderment into which | he had been thrown by the closing scene of that strange interview; and he then began to reflect with an intense and absorbing interest on every- thing which had fallen from the lady’s lips. He passed in review all the details of her remarks—he weighed her words with a minute carefulness—he considered all the possible bearings and every pro- bable tendency which they might have. It was not difficult to perceive that she was well ac- quainted with his position ; and she had also ma- naged to probe the nature of his secret thoughts to no mean depth. But who was she ?—and what assistance could she possibly lend Mr. Clarendon in order éo raise him to that eminence to which his ambition aspired ? For in order to gratify that ambition, the coronet of a peer must be placed upon his brow: and who was this lady that could render him an aid so effi- cient as to reach so grand a consummation ? Unable to form even the remotest or wildest conjecture in this respect, Mr. Clarendon was re- lapsing into that bewilderment of the ideas from which he had just managed to emerge,—when the door opened, and the Hon. Mr, Eaton was an- nounced. Wonderful was the change which had recently taken place in this young gentleman. ‘The ruddy glow of health was upon his cheeks: his eyes had lost all their wild and feverish brilliancy, and shone with a natural lustre ;—his lips were of a wholesome red ;—and his figure, though modelled in slight proportions, had lost its attenuation, debility, and appearance of caducity. Instead of the worn out and emaciated being he had so lately seemed, he was now a fine young man—remarkably handsome, and possessed of every personal attraction cal- culated to touch the female heart, as he was also endowed with every mental quality to enable him to win and retain it. * Mr. Clarendon,” said Arthur, when the usual complimentary greetings were exchanged, “I have paid my respects to you in the first instance this morning, because Iam anxious to have a few mo- ments’ conversation with you before I join my fair cousins. ‘The truth is,” continued the Hon. Mr. Eaton, his countenance assuming a certain serious- ness, though not of an expression which heraldedany bad tidings,—* the truth is, I wish to put one candid question to you in the hope of receiving as frank a reply.” “Proceed, my dear Arthur,” said Mr. Clarendon, somewhat amazed at the singularity of this pre- fatory observation. ‘I am convinced you cannot for an instant suppose that any frankness on your part will be met otherwise than with a congenial ingenuousness on mine.” “Oh! assuredly not, my dear sir!” exclaimed Eaton, whose voice of rich masculine melody constrasted strangely with the weak and enfeebled tones in which he had so recently been wont to speak, when labouring under the fatal effects of the slow poison, alias the Heir’s Friend. “ But you are well aware,” he continued, “that when a person wishes to enter upon a delicate and confi- dential subject, he prefaces it with some precau- tionary remarks which are nevertheless in most instances unnecessary and uncalled for.” “ And you are desirous of speaking to me on a delicate and confidential subject ?” said Mr. Claren- — = ———— ———- don, wondering what on earth could be the topie thus mysteriously a!luded to. “Yes: are you surprised?” demanded Arthur, with asmile. “But not to keep you any longer in suspense, my dear Mr. Clarendon, I will at once frankly inform you that it is respecting your elder daughter, the charming Octavia——” “Ah!” ejaculated Mr. Clarendon, his counte- nance lighting up with asatisfaction which he could not conceal: for it instantaneously struck him that Arthur Eaton was about to demand Octavia’s hand in marriage—and, with the rapidity of lightning, did his thoughts calculate all the advantages of such a connexion,—advantages, indeed, which would go far towards putting an end to that falseness of position in which Mr. Clarendon was situated with regard to the Marchmont family. ‘.“In one word, then, my dear sir,” resumed Arthur, after a moment’s pause,—“ do you beliere that Miss Clarendon’s affections are disengaged” “* Certainly !— most assuredly!” exclaimed M:- Clarendon, not for an instant deeming it possible that his daughter could be in love without his know- ing it. “ I acquainted you yesterday with the pleasing intelligence that Lord Florimel had on the previous day formally demanded my permission to pay his addresses to Pauline: but Octavia is as yet ‘fancy free, as Shakspere terms the virginit of the affections,” added Mr. Clarendon, little sus. pecting how tremendously he erred in his bellef and how completely he was deceived in that re- spect. “You are certain that Octavia has formed no preference amongst the circle of her acquaint ance?” said Arthur Eaton, inquiringly. “T feel convinced that she has not,” responded Mr. Clarendon, really believing what he was say- ing. “But wherefore have you asked me the same question twice ?” * Simply because I would guard myself against proceeding in error or misconception,” answered the young gentleman. ‘There have been mo- ments—especially lately—when it has struck me that Octavia was pensive—thoughtful——” “JT can assure you that I have noticed nothing of the kind,” interrupted Mr, Clarendon, emphati- cally: “and, even if she do seem pre-occupied now and then, I will stake my existence it is notin con- sequence of any attachment secretly formed. Oh! no—she would conceal nothing from me——” “ As her father, you must decidedly know best,” said Arthur. “Taking it for granted, then, that Miss Clarendon’s affections are disengaged,” he continued, in a tone of manly firmness, “I demand your permission to seek an interview with her for the purpose of offering her my hand.” “My dear Arthur,” exclaimed Mr. Clarendon, his sallow countenance becoming radiant with joy, “I am delighted—nay, so overcoine by this unlooked-for —this unexpected happiness—that I am at a loss for words to convey all I feel ? “Then I have your permission,” interrupted the young gentleman, pressing his relative’s hands with cordial warmth: “and I shall hasten to avail myself of it!” “Go, dear Arthur—go!” cried Mr. Clarendon, almost pushing him towards the door of the library: “you will find your cousins in the parlour—and Octa- via will feel herself honoured and happy in the preference which you thus manifest in her favour, GOMmiGchoo cS.co