The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 28: what you’re looking at

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14 its ripe fulness or pared down on the plea of exuber- ance. For if the shoulders were softly rounded—if the bust developed itself in superb amplitude and swelling volume—if the arms were robust—and if the folds of the drapery described a proportionate fulness in the lower limbs,—yet was the symmetry of the whole form preserved in a harmonious per- fection which left nothing to cavil at—nothing to desire ! Such was Venetia Trelawney—the young lady whose charms had been so fully discussed at the mansion of Lord Leveson, and who had become the subject of the singular agreement entered into on that occasion. We said she was seated alone in a handsomely furnished boudoir ;—and we must here observe that her residence, which bore the delightful name of Acacia Cottage, was fitted up with corresponding elegance throughout. It stood in such a position at Knightsbridge that the back windows looked upon Hyde Park, from which however the house itself was separated by a small garden. Yet though surrounded by every comfort and even every luxury,—though possessing her carriage, ana having the means of gratifying any whim or fancy which money could minister to,—and though endowed with that rare loveliness which was in itself a talisman capable of ensuring to its owner as bril- liant and honourable a position as she could well aspire to,—notwithstanding all these advantages, Venetia was not entirely happy. As she sate in her elegantly-furnished room, she frequently surprised herself in the act of heav- ing a sigh: and if she murmured within the depths of her soul, “I have all that I need to render me happy,” there still would pass into her heart a feeling to remind her that something was wanting to stamp with truth the inwardly expressed thought. And sometimes a cloud would gather upon her brow and cast its shade over her fea- tures—and the expression of her countenance would deepen from languor into despondency. Then, starting at the end of a few minutes from a painful reverie, she would exert astrong effort to fling off that gloom;—and by throwing a glance upon a mirror facing where she indolently reclined, her vanity would be gratified by the contempla- tion of her own enchanting loveliness, as well as by the promises which the possession of such beauty seemed to hold forth to her exalted fancy. Then smiles would dispel the gloom from her countenance—and her features would become ra- diant, even to absorb that sweet drooping languor which was their wonted expression. But what was the cause of Venetia’s intervals of transitory sorrow? Was she conscious of some duty unfulfilled, or of some fault committed? Had she lost that innocence which is the pearl beyond all price, and which far exceeds the value of mere- tricious diamonds that may deck the brow of beauty ? Or was she only trembling lest her vir- tue, hitherto preserved, should succumb to temp- tation? Had she taken some faise step ?—or did she feel herself in peril of taking it? Or again, did she deplore a separation from beings who were dear to her?—or lastly, was she agitated by the conflicting fears and hopes of love? As yet we are unable to penetrate the mystery of her sorrow. But pity it was that her thoughts were not ever glowing, sunny, and enchanting as THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT, her own inimitable beauty !—pity it was that care, which had not ventured to trace a single line on her smooth and polished brow, should have been able to tighten a single chord that oscillated in her heart ! Let us suppose that it is three or four hours later on this particular day when we introduce our readers to Acacia Cottage. It is now, then, one o'clock in the afternoon;—and Venetia has gone through the routine of the toilette. Jessica, the lady’s-maid—a quiet, reserved, but shrewd and faithful young woman—takes a delight in setting off the charms of her mistress to their greatest ad- vantage. Not that they need the embellishment of art, nor the aid of factitious adornment: but still dress may develop the beauties and enhance the graces of the person, as well as mar the effect of the former or conceal the latter altogether. And therefore Jessica was well pleased when her skill had proved worthy of the being on whose toi- lette it was bestowed. On the present occasion the abigail was eminently successful; and if Ve- netia had appeared so enchantingly beautiful in her morning negligée, she was not less so in a more studied costume. Indeed, it was now that the dark silk dress which she wore displayed all the admirable har- mony in the proportions of her form that we haye previously endeavoured to describe: for the body of that dress was made to fit close, so that it seemed to borrow its own shape from the conteurs of her bust, rather than assist in any way to deter- mine the effect of those flowing outlines. More- over, the long skirt of the robe, reaching to the carpet on which she trod, furnished an idea of the sweeping length of limb which it nevertheless con- cealed, and by apparently adding to her stature, gave her a more imposing beauty. With her charms thus set off to their fullest ad- vantage, did Venetia repair from the boudoir to the drawing-room, She was now sunny with smiles as wellas radiant in beauty ; and there was a certain roguisn archness in her look which seemed to inti- mate that she was prepared for some innocent piece of mischief. The drawing-room occupied the first floor of the house—extending from front to back, and having windows that faced the park as well as the street. Those casements that commanded a view of the park, and indeed overlooked the little garden behind the Cottage, were now open: for the weather was beautiful and warm, and the air was filled with the fragrance of the autumn flowers that seemed to drink in the sun-light to replenish their brilliant hues. Jessica had followed her mistress from the boudoir as far as the drawing-room door ; and when Venetia, on looking into the apartment, saw that it was un- occupied, she turned towards her abigail, saying, “Where is Mrs. Arbuthnot?” “TI believe, ma’am, that she has gone to Stratton Street,” replied Jessica. “But shail I ask down stairs ?” ‘“No—it is not of any consequence,” observed Venetia, whose voice was as full of melting melody as the most delicious music. “And yet I should have thought that she would remain near me at the present moment,” she added—but in a low tone, as the remark was intended for herself, and not to be addressed to the abigail. Jessica withdrew—and Comicnooks.