The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 175: what you’re looking at

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

PATRICIAN LADY AND PLEBEIAN GIRL = 149 been dug up from under a stone in the kitchen or back yard, I don’t exactly know which —”’ ‘But where? where?’’ Who murdered them?” de- manded the listeners, their curiosity now rising to a degree of fever-heat. ‘You'll be astounded when I tell you. In fact, every body is astonished, no one can scarcely believe it — ” ‘‘ But who is the murderer? ”’ was the anxiously repeated query. | “Mrs. Brace, the fashionable milliner of Pall Mall; and she is at this moment in the dock at Bow Street.” ‘‘ Mrs. Brace! Good Heaven! Who would have thought it? ’’ were the ejaculations which now burst forth from the lips of the listeners. ‘‘ But is it certain that she did it? And under what circumstances? ’’ ‘ Ah! that is not known at present. I was passing by the police office just now, and seeing a tremendous crowd around the door, I naturally inquired what was the matter. Then I heard all that I’ve just told you. I tried to get into the court, but it was thronged to suffocation, and the usher wouldn’t allow me even to make the attempt. There’s no doubt of Mrs. Brace’s guilt, from all I could learn.” ‘“ And how was the thing discovered?’ demanded a listener. | . | “T didn’t learn,’’ responded the informant. ‘“ We shall know all about it in the course of the afternoon, and to- morrow morning’s papers will be full of the proceedings.” Caroline Walters. lost not a syllable of this conversation. A hyena-like joy — the blending of ferocity and triumph — sprang up in her bosom as she thus learned the success of her scheme; and the blood coursed hot and fevered through her tingling veins. as she gloated over the immeasurable vengeance which she had wreaked upon the milliner. “Ah! it was an evil day for thee, vile woman,” thought Caroline within herself, ‘‘ when thou didst sell me — me, the orphan confided to thy charge— to the treacherous, graceless, unprincipled Florimel. Mine, is a nature to love fervidly — devotedly;. but it is also a nature to avenge terribly. Ah! well do I remember, when first consigned to the dread solitude of my chamber at the infamous abode of Mrs. Lindley, well do I remember saying to myself that if I could not live on for love, I might for vengeance. And so CONMUG OO) <S (GO)