The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

94 THE COURT OF LONDON therein. Now do you begin to understand any portion of my recent conduct? ”’ | ‘Yes, yes, oh, yes,’”’ ejaculated the countess, a light sud- denly breaking in upon her brain. “ That night which the Prince of Wales passed in this house — ” ‘“Oh, will you not despise me, Eleanor, I again ask? ” cried the Earl of Desborough, his tone, his looks, and his manner indicating how deep was the excitement which was growing upon him. “ But you shall first hear me, and then answer deliberately,’’ he continued, without affording his wife time to respond to the query just put. ‘‘ You remem- ber that morning when the Duchess of Devonshire called upon you after her return from Scotland — ”’ ‘“‘ Great Heaven! a thought strikes me,” interrupted the countess, an awful trembling seizing upon her entire frame and making every limb quiver as if with an intense chill. ‘Yes, that conversation which passed between the duchess and myself — ”’ ‘“‘ T overheard it all,’”’ said the nobleman, in a hoarse, thick ' tone. / ‘‘ And you did not curse me! You did not invoke Heaven’s vengeance upon my head!” shrieked forth the wretched Eleanor. ‘‘ O God! how deeply, deeply I have wronged you, — Francis, in so many, many different ways; and yet you have not spurned me from you, you have not thrust me forth as you would the snake which, having been warmed at your hearth, uprears its head to sting you.” ‘“‘ Have I not told you that I love you, that I adore you, Eleanor? ”’ exclaimed the earl; “‘and are you not aware that there is no sacrifice which I am unprepared to make in order to ensure your happiness and win some slight portion of your esteem? But let us continue the topic upon which we were entering. You remember, then, all the particulars of that interview, Eleanor, which took place between your- self and the duchess? ” ‘‘To my shame, to my confusion, to my deep, deep sorrow, do I recollect every detail,”’ said the unhappy patrician lady. ‘“‘Led on by I know not what fatal current of reflections, impelled by some demon to open my heart upon a subject which should have remained sacred, I revealed the secret to her Grace of Devonshire — ”’ “Torture not yourself with poignant reproaches on that GOMIGDOOKS (CO)