The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 400: what you’re looking at

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

meme eee - ee - Ce =- —-——~—-- — 386 ——— ——-— = CHAPTER CII. THE ROYAL BROTHER AND SISTER. Agour an hour after the occurrences just related the Prince Regent received a pressing note from his sister the Princess Sophia, begging that he would call upon her as soon as possibie. Her Royal Highness occupied apartments in St. James’s Palace; and thither the Prince accordingly re- paired. We have stated in a preceding chapter that the Princess Sophia was now about thirty-eight years of age—of luxuriant embonpoint, and of very handsome countenance. But the traces of deep care were visible upon her features; and without rising from her chair in the elegant apartment where she received her brother, the royal lady bade him in a languid tone place himself near her, as she wished to consult him on a matter of the utmost importance, The ladies who were in attendance upon the Princess, had withdrawn in obedience to a sign which she made on the entrance of her brother; and this circumstance, together with the deep melancholy which appeared in Sophia’s manner, and the look of mingled mystery and hesitation with which she regarded him, proved that it was indeed some affair of more than usual importance that had induced her thus to send for him. “ Has anything unpleasant occurred ?” asked the Prince, who was conscious of so many mis- deeds of his own and so many errors and frailties on the part of every member of his family, that he was always apprehensive of detection, exposure, or retribution. “Nothing has occurred that need give you any particular annoyance,” replied the Princess: then after a few moments’ pause, during which the colour went and came upon her cheeks even under the artificial bloom which a cosmetic shed thereon, she continued to observe, “The advice which I seek at your hands, especially regards my own happiness.” “ And yet you seem afraid of speaking outright,” remarked the Prince, somewhat impatiently. “Yes,” said the Princess Sophia, her eyes filling with tears; “because it is a painful thing for a sister to speak to a brother of her frailty and her shame.” * Wor neaven’s sake explain yourself!” exclaimed the Prince, starting uneasily, and then fixing a penetrating look upon his sister. “ Would you have me understand that you have again formed some connexion which is likely to threaten you with disgrace and dishonour ?” “No, no!” returned the Princess, hastily and almost indigngntly. “It is concerning the secret of my early years that I would speak to you—a secret that has so long been known to you——” ‘*Yes—the affair in the Edgeware Road,” inter- rupted the Prince. “But what danger threatens to transpire therefrom? Lady Florimel surely has not betrayed you ?” “Lady Florimel is the most admirable of wo- men,” exclaimed the Princess; “and I believe that she would die to serve me. It is not my secret that is menaced, but my happiness that is deeply, deeply compromised—that is to say, such _—e ee ee ees oe -_—_—— THE MYSTERILS OF THE COURT. little happiness as circumstances have permitted me to retain from the wreck of ali the generous feelings, fervid affections, and buoyant hopes of youth.” “ And so long as your secret is safe,” observed the Prince, somewhat disgusted with the sentimen- talism now exhibited by his sister, “ why the devil should you be unhappy?” “Unhappy!” she echoed, with a bitter laugh. “Should I not be something less or something more than woman, were I really and truly happy ? Or think you, George, that I can possibly blind myself to the fact that our family—the Royal Family of England—is rapidly becoming au object of loathing, hatred, and scorn to the great masses of the community? Is it not said openly, that our unhappy sire has gone mad through remorse at his own crimes and anguish at the misdeeds of his children? Has it not been even more than hinted that our brother Ernest was the murderer of Sellis? And you will excuse me for reminding you, my dear George, that the press has been recently more busy than ever with your name——” “ A truce to all this recapitulation of evils !” ex- claimed his Royal Highness, suddenly. “ You are in a melancholy mood, Sophia—your spirits are depressed—and therefore you are giving way to the gloomiest forebodings. Was it to entertain me with your miseries and make me as miserable as yourself, that you have sent for me hither ?” * How unkind of you to speak thus!” cried the unhappy Princess, bursting into tears: for the conduct of her brother on the present oceasion seemed more than usually heartless, especially as she herself was more than ever in need of affec- tionate sympathy, “Well, well,” said the Prince, somewhat soften- ing towards his sister; “tell me what advice you seek at my hands, or what service you require of me.” “ Listen to me patiently for a few minutes, and you will then understand wherefore I am thus un- happy,” said the Princess, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You are aware, dear George,” she continued, with looks slightly averted—as if she dared not meet his gaze while touching upon the present topic,—“ you are aware that upwards of nineteen years have now elapsed since I became a mother, The babe was entrusted to a surgeon of the name of Thurston—the same who has sinee risen to such eminence and acquired so great a renown as a physician. About two months ago, yielding to an irresistible impulse, 1 called upon Lady Florimel and besought her to institute inquiries relative to the fate of that son whom from its very birth I had thus abandoned to the care of strangers. My dear friend Pauline at once undertook the commission ; and she called upon Doctor Thurston, from whose lips she learnt that the child had been stolen in its infancy. Indeed, it was in the month of Jane, 1795, when the child was between five and six months old, that it was thus stolen from the arms of its nurse in Hyde Park. Doctor Thurston knows that the child was mine—has known it indeed for a very long time: but he has kept the secret inviolable. His honesty—his integrity—in this respect, at once convinced Pauline that he was telling the truth when he stated that the child had been stolen. Moreover, he showed her a printed hand-bill which was circulated at the ’ ‘ mm a ee ee ee Ee + oe ee C@ORNIECLOOOKS (E()