The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

114 question suddenly put shakes the nerves. ILowever, Lady Saxondale has evidently something to say cone cerning that Mr. Deveril who gives you lessons, Flo.” “The most amusing thing in the world!” ez» claimed her ladyship, pretending-rather to address herself to the aunt than to the niece, but furtively surveying the latter with a scrutinizing intentness from the corners of her eyes. ‘‘ Would you believe it p—this Mr. Deveril who has obtained such re- nown by his talents and is so extensively patronized in the circles of rank and fashion, seems to have had his head turned by his good fortune. For my part, I always considered him to be a well-behaved unas- suming young man, of a sufficiently independent spirit for one of bis sex and intelligence, but totally devoid of any insolent pretensions.” “That is precisely the opinion which I had formed of him,” observed Lady Macdonald; “ and I should really feel grieved to be compelled to alter it. What has happened ?” } Florina said nothing, but awaited with a tortur- ing suspense the reply that should be given to the 1 . THE MYSTERILG OF THE COURT. already conjectured cs really take place. You may conceive my astoniziment! But who would have thought it of this Mr. Deveril? A young — | can of his irtelligence to be so besotted !—a person |of his appazont good breeding to be so utterly ignorant cf the ordinary proprieties of life, or at least so fer “x. forget them! Is it not strange ?” | “Very strnge indeed,” returned Lady Mac- | donald. * And yet persons in our sphere of life 'are liable to the impertinences of presumptuous coxcombs——” “That is exactly what Mr. Deveril is,” observed Lady Saxondale: ard she saw that poor Florina | was literally writhing on her chair under these cruel |inflictions. “The poor silly fool, because he is rather good-looking, has got some little talent, and has been petted and made much of in the houses of the aristocracy to which he has obtained admit- | wane as a preceptor, fancies that the civilities shewn him are of a different character from what > they seem “But you have not yet told us,’ interrupted Lady Macdonald, “exactly what it is that this question her aunt had just put to Lady Saxondale. | Mr. Deveril has done: although, from the remarks She was naturally filled with the strangest misgiv- | you have made, I have not much trouble to guess. ings; and even while waiting for the clearing up of | I= short, I suppose that he has dared to fancy that her uncertainty and doubt, she felt a thousand wild conjectures sweeping through her brain ; for under such painful circumstances one seems to live an entire age in a single minute, and to be tossed upon a sea of troubled emotions vast cnough to fill a cen- tury, although compressed at the time into the space of afew instants. She however did her best to conceal what she experenced. Her aunt. was not noticing her; nor cic. Tacy Saxondale appear to be doing so sitner—though in reality the latter lost not a single gleam or shade of those feelings that found a swift brief flitting expression upon the young maiden’s features. j your ladyship was in love with him ?” | Precisely so,” returned Lady Saxondale, who now had the secret satisfaction of noticing with her furtive glances that poor Florina was so cruelly tortured as to have been compelled surreptitiously to wipe away the tears which had started from her eyes. “The incident happened yesterday,” con- , tinued Lady Saxondale, dwelling with a fiendish | delight upon her words as she knew that every . syllable fell like successive drops of molten lead ‘upon the most sensitive fibres of Florina’s heart. “The girls had gone out for an airing, and I was alone. Mr. Deveril was shown up, because I had a “You asked me what has happened, my dear | message to deliver from Juliana and Constance. friend?” resumed Lady Saxondale in reply to Lady Macdonald’s question. You really never would guess—and you will scarcely know how to believe me when I tell you. In one sense you will perhaps say that I ought to feel complimented—in another indignant and angry—and in a third sense wonder- fully amused and diverted.” “ T already begin to understand your meaning,” said Lady Macdonald in astonishment. ‘ But is it really possible $y “So possible,” returned Lady Saxondale, “ that it did actually take place.” All this was torture and excruciation for poor Florina; and Lady Saxondale sawit. Every varied expression which swept over the young maiden’s countenance, and every new effort which she made to conceal her emotions, tended to confirm Lady Saxondale’s suspicion that she now knew who her rival was in the love of William Deveril. There- fore, to deal in bare allusions without coming im-— mediately to the point itself, was now a source of malignant pleasure to the jealous lady. She saw, how she was torturing poor Florina—how she was_ Angling as it were with her feclings—and she en- deavoured to prolong this cruel game as much as possible. “Yes, my dear friend,” she continued, still ap- pearing to address herself almost entirely to Lady Macdonalé “what you in your shrewdness have 'It was merely, as you might suppose, to make arrangements for the days and the hours when . they would take their lessons in future. It struck ‘me that there was something very peculiar in the young man’s look and manner,—a flushing of the | cheeks—a trembling and a hesitation in the speech —an embarrassment and an awkwardness, as if he wanted to say something but dared not. It natu- turally occurred to me that he had some favour to | ask,—perhaps an advance of money, or something of the kind; and feeling really willing to oblige him, but little suspecting what was agitating in his mind, I said something to encourage him to pro- ceed. Then he burst forth into the most impas- -sioned declarations. I listened with astonishment, thinking that he had either gone mad or was re- citing some rhapsody from a novel. But as his language grew more vehement and his meaning less and less mistakable, E rose indignantly from my seat. Then he threw himself upon his knees before me, vowing that his happiness—his very life—was in my hands, and that if I did not have mercy upon him he should kill himself in despair.” ' “T never heard of such a thing,” exclaimed Lady Macdonald. ‘And to think that I should have allowed such an improper person to give les- sons to Florina, and to be alone with her!” “But I had done the same in respect to my daughters, without ever thinking that the young i GomiGcdooks (€©)