The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 171: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 165 well, achieved a conquest? Well, certainly she was very lonely—and Mr. Redcliffe was enor- mously rich: he also was lonely: and what could be more natural than that he should make her an offer P what more natural than that she should accept 1t? All these ideas crowded one upon an)ther through the ingenious.brain of Mrs. Macaulay: she smiled and simpered—rose from her seat— produced a bottle of wine (that at one-and- three from the oilman’s in the next street)—and was even about to invite Mr. Redcliffe to sup off his own pie, when he waved his hand in depreca- tion of these preparatives, and proceeded to explain himself. “The fact is, my dear madam,” he said, choosing to be civil in order to conciliate her, as it was rather a delicate boon he was about to supplicate at her hands,—“ you can render me a service.” Here Mrs. Macaulay’s countenance suddenly became grave, as the hope of matrimony vanished from her mind in an instant. “But a service, be it understood,” proceeded Mr. Redcliffe, “for which I am prepared to pay liberally.” Here Mrs. Macaulay’s countenance suddenly brightened up again: for the idea of payment was always a welcome one; and the. assurance of liberality in making it, was at all events to a cer- tain degree a salve for the feelings that had just been wounded by disappointment. “I am sure,” she said, “that any service I could render Mr. Redcliffe, shall be cheerfully performed ; and I know very well, my dear sir, that you are generous 1n your recompenses.” “‘A few words will suffice for explanation,” said Mr. Redcliffe. “Accident has enabled me to rescue a young woman from a position into which villany inveigled her. She is genteel and well educated; and I am in hopes of being shortly enabled to restore her to the bosom of her family. But in the meantime I have business of my own to attend to, and which will to-morrow take me out of town—for I know not exactly how long. Now, I must provide Miss O’Brien—for that is her name—with a home.” “ And I am sure, sir,” Mrs. Macaulay hastened to exclaim, “she can have a comfortable home here. I will be like a mother to her anything for your sake, and to give you pleasure!” “Very good, Mrs. Macaulay,’ observed Red- cliffe: “then the matter is settled. Trust to my liberality for your recompense. Watch over this young woman—let her go out as little as possible —and never alone. If her abode be discovered, attempts may be made to inveigle her away, or perhaps to carry her off by force. If when I re- turn I find that she has gone, I shall ascribe all the fault to you: but if she be still with you, your reward shall be munificent. You understand me? Perhaps I ought to add for your own satisfaction, that this young woman is nothing more to me than an object of sympathy and of Christian charity.” “Oh, dear me, sir!’ cried Mrs. Macaulay, “it is by no means necessary for you to give me such an assurance! Your character is quite sufficient as a guarantee in that respect. Let the dear creature be introduced to me; and I will treat her with the utmost kindness.” “She will want clothes and pocket-money,” continued Mr. Redcliffe: ‘for inasmuch as she has fled from the place where she has been living, she has brought nothing with her. See that all her wants be attended to.” Thus speaking, Mr. Redcliffe flung some bank- notes upon the table; and hastening up-stairs, speedily re-appeared with Eveleen, whom he pre- sented to Mrs. Macaulay. Meanwhile Christian Ashton had returned to Marchmont House; and according to the instruc- tions he had received from his ducal employer, he labelled the box in his own name. His prepara- tions for departure in the morning being made, he soon retired to rest. The image of the beautiful Miss Vincent continued uppermost in his mind,— as indeed it had done ever since he beheld her a few nights previously. Three whole days had now elapsed since then; and he had longed to call at Mr. Chubb’s on some pretext in order to see her again: but he had not dared to do so, inasmuch as a fitting excuse was wanting. The fact is, Chris- tian was in love with the charming Miss Vincent, —though he did not comprehend the state of his own feelings, nor for a moment suspect the real truth. The morning dawned upon a night of dreams, in which the image of that fair girl was ever pro- minent ; and having received a supply of money from Mr. Calvert, the Duke’s steward, Christian took his departure by the coach for Oaklands, the deal box being amongst his own luggage. It was about two in the afternoon that the coach set him down at the porter’s lodge at the entrance of the long sweep of avenue which led through the spa- cious park. The trees in this January season were denuded of their leaves: but nevertheless, to one who had just arrived from that brick-and-mortar wilderness which constitutes London, the aspect of the spacious domain, with the antique-looking mansion on an eminence in the centre, was cheer- ful and refreshing. The porter’s son—a stalwart lad of about eighteen—shouldered Christian’s lug- gage, and led the way up to the mansion, where our young hero was at once installed in the chamber which he was to occupy. Here, as at Marchmont House, he was to take his meals in the steward’s room; and thus there was to be no change in the actual comforts of his position in the Duke’s employment. Having notified his arrival to the Duke of Marchmont, he was sent for in the course of the afternoon into his Grace’s presence—and was im- mediately questioned in respect to the box. Heres plied that he had brought it with him, and handed the Duke the little packet containing the key. “You have faithfully executed my instructions,” said his Grace ; “and I am well pleased with you. No questions were asked in London about the- box—I mean by the servants at Marchmont House ?” “ None, my lord,” replied Christian. “ Good!” said the Duke. ‘“ Keep the box for a day or two in your room; and I will then let you know how to dispose of it. Ah! by the bye, Christian, your time will be pretty much your own at Oaklands: for as I have come hither to enjoy myself, I do not mean to be troubled more than I can help with correspondence and so forth.” ore S—— —_—-— (C(O) 6)(0)(0) CS (20)