The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 222: what you’re looking at

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

ee oh 216 I was weak enough to believe that your words really meant what they expressed. I have disco- | vered my error, and shall be careful how I intrude | again. » “Stay, stay—ye maun no gang that gate,” ex- claimed the old peer, as Fitzgerald’s hand was upon the door to depart. “The grandson of Derwentwater must not quit me in anger. I was not always this cross-tempered auld toad; but I canna help it—the world has made me rather bitter.” * Rather,” thought his visitor. “Did I no ken that youth has little sympathy ' wi’ age, I might tell you what has changed me from the gay, frank-hearted man, to the sneering auld devil. Bat no, no; if I saw a smile upon your young lips I should hate you, and I dinna wish to do that, so let us talk of something else, lad. Weel, ye have seen Erringcourt; is he no a pompous ass? Ye will be sair beset to endure the creature.” “ Patience is the virtue of dependence,” said Fitz- gerald; “and however bitter my fate, 1 must endure it. But pray let us change the subject, for 1 can but ill endure it at this moment,” he added, in a look and tone which showed that he was ill at ease, * Ah, lad, but that’s no philosophic,” said the old man; “ ye mun meet a’ your difficulties face to face. You are but young,” he added, in a tone of sympathy and kindness, at the same time dropping his northern accent, “and have yet to learn that both heart and brain may be accustomed to anguish, Mortified pride, and sensitiveness crushed by the coldness of the world, or tortured into madness, need present to the heartless gazer no trace of mental suffering, but wear a smiling aspect. It has been done, and may be done again,’’ And the old man, as if bowed by recollection, heaved a long-drawn sigh. “It isa cheerless picture,” said Fitzgerald, surprleatt gave hift. However,” he continued, at the new development of sentiment in the peez’s| consolation; Erringcourt is baith a fool and a Phi-' character, “‘and one likely to put all my philosophy to the proof.” will be charming! We shall be quite the belles of the bali!” This well-timed piece of flattery succeeded, for Lady Penelope at once agreed to the proposal. The countess, seeing how well she had succeeded, thought it a fitting moment to introduce rather a disagreeable subject, which she did with her usual tact. “When do you expect your new secretary, my lord?” she demanded. “ To-day,” replied the peer. “ Bamff informed me he would call this morning. I shall give him his instructions in the library. You will see the fellow at dinner.” * And what is the creature’s name?” “ Fitzgerald.” “But who is he?” perseveringly continued her ladyship ; for a new secretary was au event to her, as well as to her husband. “ A relation, I believe, of old Bamff’s, It is through his recommendation that I receive him. Indeed, I could net well do less, since his lordship obliged me so handsomely in the affair of the vote for the Scotch peer. Some booby with red hair and a nasal twang, no doubt.” Here Lady Penelope left the room to dress. “T don’t know what to make of Pen,” whispered the sister-in-law; “she takes the loss of her lover more easily than I anticipated. [I trust there is no secret correspondence going on between them.” “ Pshaw !” replied the peer, who, like most conceited men, had a very high opinion of his own judgment, and a very mean one of 6very other p'rsun’s, esne- THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, | on their heads wha ha’ driven a honourable house to | na other means. Would I were a warlock, to see the end out; but I'm too auld for that, I’m thinking. Ah, well!” “ The gout, I've heard, is an excellent friend to longevity. For your sake, my lord, | trust the saying may prove a true one.” “Taank ye, lad—thank ye,” exclaimed the old man kindly. “I could almaist imagine ye were sincere, especially as I can no leave ye any thirg. ‘The title dies wi’ me, and the estate is in strict entail. By . the bye, do ye ken my hopeful heir?—he is weel : known about town. He does no often visit me; he. thinks it’s no worth while to pay court to an auld felow wha must leave him his lande, Ill ask the thing to dine with me, and ye shall meet him. What say ye to Sunday next ?—stay, no—the fortnight will be better; by that time this damned fit of the gout will have. left me,” “Tam per‘ectly disengaged,” said our hero, “and accept 5 our invitation,” “Now then,’’ said the old man, “as the ar- rangement is perfectly understood, be off wi’ ye, I’ve chatted o’ermuch for one day, and I’ve no wish to contract a habit of gossipping and a love of society 5 but it would only make my hours mair lonely when left to myself. Adieu!” Lord Bamff held out his hand for the first time with an appearance of cordiality foreign to his usually cold apathetic disposition, and Fitzgerald shook it with a feeling of respect, if not positive | attachment. “He is not such a bad lad,” muttered the peer as his guest departed, “and I dinna wonder that poor Derwentwater feels an occasional twinge 4 conscience, and [ almost regret the pe petty advice thero’s one ame listine—fit quarry for any hawk that can strike the | buzzard down.” prc With this philosophic reflection, his Te- cjiramed his former occupation of reading, from which — ae arrival of a visitor had for awhile disturbed him. fall duc nee att the bre Could is the home of pride, though gilded state tin, Adorns the marble walls; the smiles we meet there — cal, Spring not from the heart’s deep rich content ;— } Hypocrisy paints them—an incarnate lie, the Blistering the cheek of youth.—Mariamne. lar) PUNCTUALLY at the appointed hour, Fitzgerald as :Yived at the splendid mansion of his patron, and was | — uttamediately ushered into the drawing-room, where | — seer was left to survey the gorgeous furniture, and coumire the works of art which adorned the walls ; eveMprising pictures by the most celebrated Jatues, and antique bronzes, The family at last coutde their appearance, The earl’s reception of his) «w secretary was stately, and intended to be mel. By the ladies he was welcomed with the favour | the to his elegant manners and striking person, To bein Secret annoyance, Digby was there. He feared his | mu:d and observant judgment would detect that he © : ableS Submitting to an unworthy part. : up “You are not unacquainted with Mr, Fitzgerald, | hayv'n?” said the countess, as her nephew, anxious to *pider his friend's reception agreeable to his feelings, | Bolsented him to her LA you S.C Gomichboo