The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

206 THE COURT OF LONDON Foster,’ exclaimed George Woodfall, with impassioned ardour alike in his tone and manner; “ and I beseech, I implore, I entreat you to look upon me as a friend who would lay down his life to save you a single pang.” “Mr. Woodfall,” said Rose, wiping away the tears which had started forth upon her long lashes at the mention of the word “‘ home,’”’ — and now, as she fixed her sweet blue eyes upon the young artist’s countenance, there was something so melting in their expression and so softly touching in her whole aspect that he felt as if he had known and loved her from their very infancy, — ‘‘ Mr. Woodfall,” she said, ‘ I am totally unable to find words to convey an idea of all the eratitude I feel for this most generous, unexpected, and dis- interested behaviour on your part. As candidly as you have spoken to me, so frankly will I answer you; and my answer is,’ she added, her voice sinking to a low and tremulous whisper, ‘‘ that I have no friends to take care of me, no home to receive me.” “ But that lady? ” said Woodfall, casting his eyes toward Mrs. Brace, who was in deep conference with Grumley in the window recess. “That is Mrs. Brace, the milliner,’’ responded the orphan, again wiping away the tears from her eyes. ‘ I was in her service, but certain circumstances, which I cannot now mention — in fine, I will not return to her establishment.”’ And she looked shudderingly toward the milliner; for although she had forgiven that woman, although she believed her to be penitent for the past, and although she felt grateful to her for the manner in which she had behaved relative to the proceedings which had just terminated, the young girl nevertheless recoiled from the idea of venturing back again into a house where she had already endured so much, and where she would again be exposed to the persecutions of the ~ Prince of Wales. ‘“‘ Miss Foster,’ said George Woodfall, suddenly breaking a silence which had lasted for upwards of a minute, and he looked the maiden full in the face as he spoke, “‘ Miss Foster, can you, will you, dare you trust me? Or is your experience of the world of too bitter a nature to permit you to put any confidence in a stranger? ”’ “ Mr. Woodfall,” replied the young girl, firmly, ‘‘ not for an instant will I return your generosity by the ingratitude COnniclooOo S (C(O)