The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 232: what you’re looking at

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

— o LCE DALLA LLL LEAL OLE A A 226 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. times she appeared to be hovering upon the very | occupied : and in that same listless, unintentional verge of the grave. The physician, on the third evening, had insisted upon having a nurse: never- theless Christina would not abandon her friend— but remained with her night and day,—recruiting however her own strength by lying down for a few hours in a bed which she caused to be prepared in the same room for the purpose. With her own hand she administered all Zoe’s medicine—but usurping this duty with such sweetness of manner and with so much amiability that the old nurse, though belonging to a class amazingly jealous of their prerogatives, could not find it in her heart to be offended. Nor throughout all this time, did Christina once incur the chance of finding herself alone with Lord Octavian. Occasionally, when his visits were paid to his sick wife’s chamber, the nurse was absent—Zoe was unconscious of what was passing around her—and thus it may he said that he and Christina were virtually alone. But then she would sit on the opposite side of the couch from that where he placed himself; and half concealed by the curtain, she would not once meet his gaze. When he spoke to her—which was in the same manner of friendly courtesy as was formally wont to mark his bearing—she on her side responded with equal courtesy, but gave no encouragement for a protracted conversation. Thus did the time pass; and on the twelfth day after the accident, the physician pronounced Lady Octavian Meredith to be out of danger. She now became conscious of what was passing around; and from the lips of both the physician and the nurse, she learnt how Christina had affectionately and tenderly ministered unto her during her severe illness. Indeed the medical man, who was generous- hearted and conscientious, hesitated not to give Zoe the assurance that she owed her life to Miss Ashton,—observing that though the physician may prescribe, and though the pecuniary position of the patient may be such as to ensure every comfort, yet that there is something which surpasses all professional skill and which no wealth can purchase —namely, the unwearied and tender ministration of a devoted friend. In Christina had Zoe pos- sessed such a friend; and as the sick lady wound her arms about our heroine’s neck, she murmur- ingly said, “Christina —dearest Christina, you have been to me as a sister. Oh, you know not how I love you !” Let us suppose another fortnight passed. It was now verging towards the end of April; and on a bright beautiful day, Zoe was reclining upon the sofa in the drawing-room, enveloped in a wrapper —still pale and feeble—but completely out of dan- ger, and with every prospect, according to the physician’s declaration, of a speedy convalescence. One of the casements was open; and the genial air, in which the freshness of Spring mingled with the warmth of approaching Summer, was wafted into the room. Christina sat near the invalid: her cheeks were also pale—for she had not once issued from the dwelling since the return after the accident. Octavian was out; and the two young ladies were alone together. A newspaper lay upon the table; and during a pause in the conversation—for Zoe was prohibited from speaking too much-—Christina took up the journal. It was more a mechanical action than a voluntary one—for her thoughts were pre- manner her eyes moved slowly over the columns of the front page. But all in a moment something appeared to rivet her gaze and concentrate her thoughts: for she gave a start like that of one who suddenly discovers an object which has been sought after. Then she appeared to be studying with profound attention the particular passage, para- graph, or whatever it might be, which had thus so abruptly claimed her interest. Zoe—who had her regards settled in plaintive and tender contempla- tion of Christina’s beautiful countenance—noticed that start, and observed likewise the deep study which followed it. A minute or two elapsed in continued silence; and then Zoe said in a soft gentle voice, “ What is it, dear Christina, that so interests you P” Our heroine again started, as if aroused from a reverie; and she flung a half-timid, half- deprecating look upon Lady Octavian Meredith, as if she feared for a moment to give such ex- planation as the question required. But then suddenly recovering her self-possession, she an- swered with a sweetness singularly biended with firmness, “ Here is an eastern lady of rank who is advertising for a companion, who must possess certain qualifications, all of which are minutely specified.” * And wherefore, my dear Christina,” inquired Zoe, a strange expression for a moment flitting ment interest you so much ?” “ Because—because, my dear friend—my kind benefactress—my own sweet Zoe,’ was Christina’s tremulously giyen response, “the advertisement appears to sult me,” Lady QOctayian Meredith did not immediately make any answer: she howeyer gazed earnestly upon Christina’s eountenance, as if seeking to read into the very depths of her soul: but the amiable lady’s regards were notwithstanding fraught with an ineffable sweetness and a tenderness that was at the same time full of affection, surprise, and suspense. “And you will leave me, Christina?” she at length said, but in a voice so low that it was only audible through its tremulous clearness. “Yes, dearest Zoe,” answered Christina, “I shall seek this situation :’—and then she averted her countenance to conceal the tears that were trickling down it. She said not another word: she volunteered not another syllable of explanation. What more in- deed could she say? To enter into particulars was impossible; and she would much rather lie under the imputation of deep ingratitude—painful though such an imputation were—than be guilty of the far blacker and perhaps more hidden in- gratitude of remaining beneath that roof to stand in the way of Zoe’s claims to all her husband’s devoted love. There was a long silence, during which Christina dared not turn her eyes again upon Lady Octavian Meredith: for she naturally feared that this silence on her friend’s part denoted astonishment and displeasure. At length feeling her position was awkward in the extreme, she slowly and timidly reverted her eyes upon Zoe; and then to her mingled amazement and relief, she perceived that Lady Octavian, having just wiped the tears from over her countenance,-—-‘‘ why does that adyertise- . ———— ree a a aT TREES CO) AMIE VOOKS