The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 186: what you’re looking at

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

| 180 THE MYSTERIE. OF THE COURT. above the head of her mistress. Of Lavinia’s guilt’ she entertained not the slightest doubt :— how could she after all she had seen and heard? But still, with her habitual caution and cold reserve, she said nothing,—quielly awaiting the moment when she would be called upon to testify to all that had come to her knowledge, or until the tremendous truth (as she supposed it to be) should explode from another quarter. At the time that the Hon. Wilson Stanhope was taking his departure in the manner just described, Lavinia was engaged in her own private sitting- room adjoining her bed-chamber. She was reading a book, and dreaming of no evil. All of a sudden the Duke entered the room; and she perceived in a moment that there was something wrong. He had tutored his looks to assume an air of ill- subdued rage; and walking straight up to her as she rose in affright from the sofa, he said, “‘ Madam, you are faithless |” *“ Good heavens, Hugh! what fearful miscon- ception is this?” cried the startled Duchess, be- coming pale as death. “T repeat, madam,” responded her husband sternly and vehemently, “ you have violated your duties asa wife—you have dishonoured me!” Now it was that the countenance of the Duchess became crimson with indignation—while her whole form trembled violently: and she exclaimed, “ No, my lord! Never was accusation more foul—more false !” “ [very woman who is thus detected, speaks in a similar strain,’ retorted the Duke. “ Here, madam, is one proof—and others have lhkewise come to my knowledge.” “Oh, this is going too far!” cried Lavinia, the tears gushing forth from her beautiful blue eyes, aud her bosom heaving with convulsive violence. “The proof, madam, I say!” thundered forth the Duke of Marchmont: and he produced a letter, which he hastily unfolded and displayed to her view. “Whatever that letter may be, I know not,” exclaimed the Duchess: and raising her clasped hands, she cried, “ Heaven is my witness that I am innocent !” *“ Tnnocent?” echoed Marchmont, forcing him- self to look and to speak as if he were boiling with rage. ‘ What! innocent in the face of such damning evidence as this? JBesides, madam, your paramour has admitted his guilt. This letter, intended for your hands, but accidentally dropped by the villain who has dishonoured me e “ugh,” cried the Duchess, almost wild with mingled indignation, frenzy, and despair, “it is a horrible mistake—a frightful error! God is my witness that never by word or thought have I dis- honoured you!” “ Ah! you dare persist in this impudent denial ?” exclaimed the Duke. ‘ Why, woman! here 1s the letter in which your paramour addresses you in the language of love—speaks of the favours you have bestowed upon him, and entreats their re- newal !” “Hugh, this is dreadful!” murmured the mi- serable Duchess, sinking upon the sofa, covering her face with her hands, and bursting forth into an agony of weeping. “Oh, there are other proofs yet to come!’ con- tinued the Duke. “Since Saturday night has | | }»? I ES your frailty been known to me: but I have dis- simulated—I have endeavoured to blind myself against my own convictions. Too merciful per- And it is here—unmistakable, irrefutable, damn- ing |” As the Duke held forth the letter with one hand, he dashed the other against it while he thus spoke with every appearance of infuriate passion. Indeed, though having not the slightest legitimate ground, as the reader well knows, for the present proceeding, he had nevertheless literally lashed himself up into a rage. But he was for a moment somewhat staggered when the Duchess—suddenly becoming calm, and acquiring a degree of firmness at which even she herself was astonished—advanced up to him, and said, “I can look you in the face, Hugh, without blushing! This is a matter which cannot and must not be disposed of amidst a tor- rent of passion. I court and demand the com- pletest investigation. There has been no circum. stance in my life to justify so foul a calumny : there has never even been the faintest levity on wy part to give colour to such an accusation. “ But this letter?” cried the Duke, holding it up before her. “ A letter might be found addressed to yourself,” responded Lavinia, “and charging you with all conceivable iniquities: but it nevertheless would not prove your guilt.” “T tell you there are other proofs !” vociferated Marchmont: and he rang the bell violently. The Duchess resumed her seat; and being now fortified with a calm dignity, as well as being up- held by the consciousness of her own innocence, she serenely awaited the next phase, whatsoever it might be, in this extraordinary drama. Not but that the whole proceeding was intensely painful for her :—still she felt certain that the issue must be in her favour, as she was very far from suspect- ing the dark villany plotted by her own husband. As it was the bell of her Grace’s private sitting- room which had been rung, it had to be answered by one of her female dependants ; and it was Amy Sutton who in a few moments made her appear- ance. The first glance which the lady’s-maid flung upon her mistress and the Duke, showed her that the explosion had taken place: but she was nevertheless somewhat amazed to perceive the comparatively calm and dignified look which Lavi- nia wore, and which bespoke outraged innocence far more than conscious guilt. “ Ah! itis you?” said the Duke, as Amy en- tered the room: “and it is fortunate—for you are the very person I at the moment wanted.” Now indeed the Duchess gave a half-start of surprise and curiosity; and then her regards settled upon Amy’s countenance, to gather thence if possible what part she was about to play in the present proceedings. Pure-minded and kind- hearted as the Duchess herself was, she revolted against the idea which for an instant struck her that Amy could have been treacherously and wickedly calumniating her: but when she beheld a certain confusion almost amounting to distress in the young woman’s look and manner, Layinia was bewildered what to think. “Amy Sutton,’ said the Duke, who now thought fit to speak in a more solemn and sub- y>? + et A A A CE LE CT, ee LE TD haps, and too confiding—or rather too slow to be convinced—I waited for other evidence COMMUC NOOLKS.EO)