The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

PAULINE 5 answer! ’’ exclaimed the duchess, “* but poor Octavia is far from well; the blow has been a cruel one.’ “ But she is alive?’ ejaculated Pauline, in a tone of thrilling anguish, as the terrible idea flashed to her imagina- tion that her beloved sister was no more, and that the duchess was about to break the tidings of her death as gently as pos- sible. ‘‘ Oh, entertain not such a dreadful apprehension! ”’ cried Georgiana, penetrating her thoughts. “ Yes, Octavia is alive, thank Heaven, and well too in bodily health.” ‘Oh, horror! I begin to comprehend the appalling truth!’ shrieked forth the wretched Pauline. ‘It is her reason that is affected, her senses have abandoned her! Great Heaven, I understand it all now — and your Grace does not contradict the fact. Alas! alas! my poor dear ruined sister, what has thy destroyer done to thee? What new iniquity has he perpetrated? Oh, vengeance upon his head — no, not vengeance; ’tis mercy that I implore of the prince, mercy on behalf of the ruined Octavia.” And having given utterance to these exclamations in a wild tone, and with a countenance evincing the poignancy of the anguish which rent her soul, Pauline sank upon her knees, covered her face with her hands, and burst into an uncontrollable ers of sobs and tears and bitter lamenta- tions. “Let her weep, Gabriel, let her weep,” whispered the duchess, hastily, to the young nobleman, as he rushed for- ward to raise his well-beloved from that posture of despair. “This outpouring of her surcharged soul will relieve her.” And for some minutes Pauline continued to give way to her almost frantic sorrow. But suddenly raising her head, though without moving from her knees, she looked up into Georgiana’s countenance, exclaiming, “‘ You have not told me whether my horrible suspicion be true. Perhaps I may be wrong — God grant that Iam. Is my sister so deeply afflicted that she has lost her reason? Tell me, dear lady, oh, tell me. Let me know the worst, or else give me instantaneous relief by the assur- _ ance that my fears have exaggerated the evil.”’ And as she thus spoke, the beauteous creature twined her outstretched arms around the form of the splendid Duchess of Devonshire, every lineament of the anguished (C(O) ANC } KS {