The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 149: what you’re looking at

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134 ——S>=S—— ————— —————— ciation well nigh intolerable which Florina thus suffered—or rather a series of excruciations more poignant than any that had ever previously entered into her young heart’s experience. Presently, after having delivered herself of an immensely long tirade of invectives against the young artist, Lady Macdonald rang the bell fur- ously ; and when a footman answered the summons, she said, “ When Mr. Deveril calls at the house again, you will tell him that. his services can be dis- pensed with for the future, and that if he will send in his account a cheque shall be remitted for the sum,” “Yes, my lady,” was the footman’s reply: and he quitted the room. Florina felt as if her heart must burst. She eould endure this state of inward torture no longer ; and quitting the drawing-room, she hastened up to her own chamber, where she threw herself upon the couch and gave vent to her woe in a torrent of the bitterest weeping. Long, Oh! far too long, poor girl, was that paroxysm of almost mortal anguish,— an anguish proportionate to the love which she experienced for Deveril—and that love itself was illimitable! When the violence of her emotions had somewhat exhausted itself and she began to feel that she was capable of serious reflection, she rose from the couch on which she had flung herself in her despair, and taking her seat on a sofa, en- deavoured to reflect upon all that had occurred. She could not altogether believe Lady Saxondale’s story; and yet she could not altogether doubt it. She fancied that there must be some foundation for it; but that her ladyship, either in her vanity or her anger, had exaggerated many of the details. Deeply and devotedly as Florina loved William Deveril, and dreadful as it was to put faith in a narrative so damnatory to his sincerity, yet the young lady, inexperienced as she was in the ways of the world, could not possibly imagine that it was all false, and - that instead of a wanton inconstancy being imputed to Deveril, it was a sheer wickedness that lay at the door of Lady Saxondale. But though unable to believe in Deveril’s complete innocence, Florina was not prepared to break off with him entirely without previously giving him an opportunity of explana- tion—or justification, if possible. There was still far too much confidence in her love not to induce her to adopt this course; and though tortured by horrible doubts as she was, there was likewise too much justice in her heart to permit the young damsel to condemn her lover upon that purely one- sided statement. “And yet,” she thought within herself, “ what could he possibly say in his defenceP There surely must be some foundation for Lady Saxondale’s state- ments; and if that foundation be ever so slight, it is nevertheless sufficient to form a colossal monument of Deveril’s perfidy towardsme. Oh! who would have thought that when yesterday he knelt at my feet and poured forth the impassioned language of love, he could so soon repeat the tale elsewhere! It seems impossible! it seems impossible! Not merely is love outraged, but every idea of propriety—and even nature itself! It cannot be true! No—De- veril is incapable of such conduct. It would stamp him as false-hearted, vile, profligate And, Oh! who could believe him to be all this? But Lady Saxondale—would she invent such a story? For THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. what purpose? Surely not to gratify her vanity? She who has had nobles falling at her feet and soli-_ citing her hand, needs not to vaunt the admiring homage of a humble artist, especially if that homage were never offered at all. But if not from vanity, was it wickedness? No, no—Lady Saxondale is in- capable of that. A worldly-minded woman she is; but not so thoroughly black-hearted. Oh! I am tortured with suspense—I am racked with uncer- tainty. Would to heaven that I had never known Walliam Deveril at all—or at least, that I had never loved him!” Again did Florina’s tears flow thick and fast; and her bosom was convulsed with sobs. “Oh! if he were really innocent after all,” she continued in her musings, “ what a frightful indig- nity is this which my aunt has ordered to be put upon him! To have the door shut in his face—to be told to send in his bill like any tradesman who is discarded for insolence or some other fault——goed heavens! if Deveril be innocent, I say, hew keenly, how deeply will he feel this insult! And this is not all. His character will be ruined—Lady Saxondale is spreading the story——-Oh! she would not dare do this unless she had just ground !—no, she would not dare do it—it is too serious—and I fear—Oh! I fear, that Deveril is indeed false. Ah, why have I loved him? There is not a book I ever read and in which love is introduced, that it is not represented as enduring the severest trials. Why does every poet depict love as being thus tortured? why does every novelist describe its current as never flowing smoothly ? Because the poet and the novelist draw their inspirations from the facts passing in the great world before their eyes; and therefore it is the truth which they delineate. Oh! then this truth—this grand, striking, and imperious truth, is that love must have its trials, its sorrows, and its disappoint- ments—aye, and that the rose of love is too often doomed to wither prematurely and perish before its time! Alas, would that I had never allowed the rose of love to shed its fragrance upon my soul: it is a fragrance which a blight turns into a plague- mist, and which instils poison where it at first ap- peared to be only capable of shedding sweets!” In this manner mused the unhappy Florina Staunton, till at length her ideasreacheda pitch so torturing, so intolerable, that she felt she must do something in order to put an end to this state of mind. She must know the truth at once; to live tossed upon the waves of uncertainty, were an ex- istence which she could not endure. If Deveril had been guilty of all that Lady Saxondale imputed te him, the sooner Florina knew the worst the better: she could then summon all her fortitude to her aid, and endeavour to stifle her love in her heart. But if on the other hand William Deveril were innocent— if through misapprehension of his meaning at the time, or if in the spirit of sheer wickedness Lady Saxondale had recited her narrative—it was of the highest consequence that Deveril should be informed of what was being said against him. Thus, in any case did Florina feel how paramount it was that she should have an interview with Deveril. But how was this to be managed? When he called at the house the door was to be shut in his face. She thought of writing to him: but if she proposed an appointment, where could they meet? The circum. stances in which the young lady found herself placed, LE a .--—— OC i GomiGcsdooks (€©)