The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 274: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT, in the bewilderment of one whe was in a state between stupor and despair. The steps were put up—-the door was closed—the footman leapt to the box—and the equipage dashed away from the door of Saxondale House. CHAPTER LIV. THE TETE-A-TETE IN THE TRAVELLING-CABRRIAGE. THE carriage pursued its way at a rapid rate through the streets of the metropolis: the suburbs were reached and passed—and the open country was gained. Nearly an hour had elapsed since the vehicle quitted Park Lane; and all this while not a single word was spoken inside. Lady Saxondale had thrown herself back in the corner of the carriage, and had remained perfectly motionless from the commencement of the journey : her veil was still over her countenance, so that Juliana was totally unable to obtain the slightest indication as to her mother’s feelings or what was now passing in her mind. The young lady herself sat absorbed in thought, revolving all she had heard during the past night and all that had happened this morning: she wondered where her sister and the Marquis of Villebelle were at the moment—and with a subdued sigh she thought of Francis Paton. Presently Lady Saxondale slowly raised herself from that reclining posture, and as slowly lifted her veil. Juliana mechanically turned her eyes upon her mother, and gave a sudden start—indeed, could scarcely repress a seream—on beholding the fiendish expression with which that mother was regarding her. Grandly handsome as Lady Saxondale natu- rally was, she seemed at that moment absolutely hideous: her features were all convulsed with a satanic rage—her set teeth gleamed between her ashy lips which contortion kept apart—her nobly pencilled brows were corrugated—her lofty fore- head was contracted into wrinkles—while her eyes glared, or even glowered in a manner horrible to contemplate. “Ah! you are frightened, detestable girl!” she said in a thick husky voice: then as her counte- nance gradually assumed a more natural appear- ance, still however remaining ghastly pale, and with sinister fires gleaming in the eyes, she added, “ Juliana, what do you think of yourself after all that you have done P” “Tf you allude to the affair of Constance,” re- sponded the elder daughter, now having recovered the most perfect self-possession, “‘ I rejoice and I triumph.” “ Perish Constance !” ejaculated Lady Saxondale, vehemently. “I cast her off—I abandon her for ever! I discard her: she is no longer a daughter of mine! Let her go, to become the paramour of a married man: let her drag out her life in infamy, shame, and dishonour! When the French adven- turer is tired of her, he will thrust her off. She will perhaps come back to me, full of contrition and re- morse: I will spurn her. Then she will go and fling herself into the arms of some new lover; and he in turn will cast her away from him when satiated. Perhaps she will come back again to me: T will spurn her with my foot as before. Then she will continue in the ways of profligacy, passing ee yen ee 242 from lover to lover, but each time descending lower and lower in the social scale—till at length she will take her infamy with her into the streets. And there,” added Lady Saxondale, with accents of bitter irony, but which were almost immediately succeeded by a strange and unnatural laugh resem- bling an hysterical shriek—“ she will drag herself on through all pollutions—there the daughter of patri- cian parents will suffer all insults and all ignemi- nies, till at length her wretched career will close in a ditch or a lazar-house!”’ “ T have listened to this tirade of your’s, mother, with unspeakable horror and the deepest disgust,’ said Juliana, at first somewhat frightened by the terrible vehemence with which Lady Saxondale spoke, but afterwards showing an air of loathing and abhorrence. ‘‘ Whatever Constance may have this day done, it was your tyranny that drove her to it; and as for the picture you have drawn, it is quite clear that in your malignant wickedness you depict what you desire should happen.” “You are adopting proud and haughty language towards me,” said Lady Saxondale, now bendiug upon Juliana looks as ferocious as those of a tigress. “ Infamous girl! what diabolical treachery did you practise during the past night!” ‘And what a fearful secret did I learn, mother,” retorted Miss Farefield. “Ah! asecret—yes! I know that you discovered it: I know that by means of the most detestable artifice you wormed it out of that woman who, cunning as she generally is, was nevertheless thrown off her guard by your matcliless cuplicity. Well, that secret—go and proclaim it if you like! Are you disposed to do so? On my soul, it has cost me so much to keep it, that it would now take but little to induce me to proclaim it to the world at once. Therefore, Juliana, do not think that by tne knowledge of this secret you have got me in your power, so that I shall henceforth cringe to your tyranny. If you imagine this, you are very much mistaken.” Lady Saxondale had spoken with extreme volu- bility, and in such a state of frenzied excitement that her daughter had never seen her exhibit befure. She would perhaps have gone on longer: but ex- hausted and breathless, she sank back in the corner of the carriage. “Tt is no use, mother, for you to affect an utter recklessness with regard to this secret,” said Juliana, in a voice that was spiteful in its very coldness. »“You know perfectly well that all you have just been saying is not only false, but purely nonsensical. As long as you cling to life, will you cling to that secret: but even if you had made up your mind to suicide, you would not tell that secret to a living soul ere you accomplished the work of selt- destruction. You might leave the secret, or rather its elucidation, wrilten upon paper, so as to exercise a posthumous revenge against one whom you hate most cordially: but you would not dare look the world in the face and explain all the past.” “ You know not what I shall dare—you know not what I shall be goaded to!” exclaimed Lady Saxon- dale, quivering all over witha terrible rage, which appeared as if it must vent itself by doing her daughter a mischief—for it was the rage of the tiver-cat. ‘ Why are you here?” she suddenly ex- claimed, after a few moments’ pause: “ why did you (C(O) JOO (Cc S (CO)