The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 167: what you’re looking at

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| 152 thus found herself as it were face to face with Ralph Farefield ? For the doctor’s visitress, as the reader has doubt- less all along known, was none other than Lady Saxondale! Yes—there stood Ralph Fareficld, looking as if he had not been dead a day—apparelled, too, in a befitting suit of raiment; for thus was the doctor accustomed to clothe his subjects, so as to give them a life-like appearance. Yes—there was Ralph Farefield, gazing with his artificial eyes of glass, forth from his coffin-case, upon the horror-stricken Lady Saxondale. Fortunate for her was it that utter consternation paralyzed ‘her voice and for the moment struck her dumb,—fortunate too was it that a massive table was near, against which she sup- ported herself as she staggered back, — fortunate also was it that Dr. Ferney had his own eyes turned towards the corpse at the time: for had it not been for all these circumstances, Lady Saxondale would have screamed out—would have sunk down upon the floor - and would have betrayed the terrible emotions so suddenly excited by this tremendous discovery. And never, too, had her natural strength of mind been so abruptly called upon to put forth all its powers: never was the readiness of self-possession so completely needed! Nor was she at fault in these respects. She became herself all in a moment: but it was with a terrible effort . that cost agonies in making it—and the coolness she assumed was unnatural to a degree. “Tt is indeed wonderful, my dear Dr. Ferney,” she observed. “Your success in the art of pre- serving these objects is beyond all parallel. Truly, you must have discovered the Egyptian secret: the lost key has been found by you. But, Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed, as a clock in the museum struck eleven,—a circumstance of which she was only too glad to avail herself as an excuse for im- mediate departure,—“ is it possible that I have been here two whole hours? And now it is so late! The time has slipped away——how fast, how fast! My dear Dr. Ferney, I must say farewell at once.” “And may I hope,” inquired the physician, “ that on some future occasion you will favour me with your presence in my humble abode? But no—not for the world, unless perfectly agreeable to your- self——” “Yes, doctor—I will assuredly visit you again. Meanwhile you will recollect the promise you have made me ?” “It were impossible to forget anything in con- nexion with you—and equally impossible not to keep any pledge which you have required.” Lady Saxondale was now escorted by Dr. Ferney vut of the museum; and she appeared to breathe more freely when the door of that hideous place had clos.d behind her. Carefully covering her counte- nance with her veil again, she descended the stairs, preceded by the physician, who carried the light ; and in the hall she bade him farewell. For a mo- ment he felt the pressure of her hand as it held his own; and when she had departed, and the street- door was shut again, and the doctor was left to the solitude of his own thoughts, that pressure of the hand seemed to linger—it was still felt—and the music of the lady’s voice likewise seemed to sound in his ears. Strange was the love which this man felt for that _—_— oo woman whose real name he knew not ani of whose station in life he was equally ignorant! But this love of his—was it an infatuation? No: it was rather a deep and holy devotion which his heart offered up eternally at the shrine of love. There was nothing maudlin in that loye—no sickly senti- mentalism against which common sense nauseates: it was not a love showing itself in caprices—pas- sionate outbursts alternating with fits of despon- dency ;—it was a love which ruffled not the even tenour of his way—it was an essence mingling with the waters on which his bark of life floated, and not a breeze sweeping over its surface. It was a love without grossncess—without impurity—and the dis- appointment and hopelessness of which had been ac- companied by a profound resignation. How stranga, then, is the influence of love! but in how many varied ways does it manifest its power! Even the strong mind of that man—a man given up to philo- sophie study and scientific research—yielded to its influence: its etherealizing spirit commingled with the tide of his erudition—it interwove itself amidst the tissues of his learning—and ampler and ampler though the stores of knowledge grew in that man’s soul, there was yet no infringement upon the space forming the tabernacle which enshrined his love. CHAPTER XXXIIL THE LISTENERS. On the following day, at about two o’clock in the afternoon, William Deveril knocked at the front- door of Saxondale House. “Ts her ladyship at home?” he inquired of the hall-porter; and while his face was very pale and even careworn, there was nevertheless a certain de- cisiveness in his looks and accents which indicated @ firm and settled purpose. “Her ladyship is at home, sir,” was the porter’s reply, given coldly though not insolently: “but I am sorry to say that I have orders not to admit ou.” ae? Under most circumstances such an intimation,” replied Deveril, “ would be respected by any one of good manners and breeding: but there are also cir- cumstances which justify an individual in demanding an audience and insisting upon his demand being complied with. Such are the circumstances in which I am placed.” “Tam afraid I cannot help you, sir,” said the hail porter, standing at the door in such a way as to be ready to bar Deveril’s entrance, should he make the attempt. “Do not pay me such an ill compliment,” he ob- served, in a gentle though manly tone of rebuke, “as to suppose that I shall endeavour to foree my way into the house. I am incapable of such con- duct. But what I desire is, that you send upa message to Lady Saxondale to the effect that I de- mand an interview, not as a favour, but as a right.” “TJ will certainly send up a message,” said the hall-porter: and no longer thinking it necessary te keep the dvor-way guarded, he turned round and directed a footman to report to her ladyship what Mr. Deveril had said. In a few minutes the footman, who, very diferent - - : THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. VHOOKS (C(O) (E©)