The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 268: what you’re looking at

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

| 266 _ from her first slumber by a footstep and a light in the ‘room. “Ts that you, Richard?” she demanded, half asleep and half awake. A reply, in a low tone, was made in the affirmative, and the candle was instantly extinguished, The next morning, when she awoke, she found herself in the arms of the gallant colonel. It would be impossible to paint the storm of grief and tears, reproaches and entreaties, with which the deluded woman replied to his soothings and demand for pardon—pleading his love and her beauty as an excuse. “You have stained an honest name, my lord,” she cried, “ and are a Villain!” “You are an angel.” “ Leave me!” she continued, “It’s rather Jate for reproaches now. Hear ime,’’ he continued; “ my sister knows nothing of this affair, and, if you guard your own counsel, never will. She will conduct you in her carriage to your hotel, and explain to your husband that she found you alone in the garden, terrified to death —that, willing to save you from the parsuit of the prince, sh yer be yon to her house, ad kept you with her all night. Her rank and sex,” he added, with a simile, “ will prevelit sus- picion. He will be perfectly satisfied, and note the wiser if you keep hag own secret. Come,” he ai THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. —_—_—-—- a frightened doe, roaming here and there through the gardens, looking for its lost mate. It was fors _ | “And so do I!” exciaimed the grateful husband, — receiving his lost doe into his arms with the most unsuspecting confidence, and kissing away her tears tunate I happened to notice her. I tremble to think what hands she might have fallen into!” , “ How can I thank your grace?” “By taking better care of the poor child for the | future. There, good bye, dear,” she added, the brow of the fair creature whom she had so cruelly betrayed; “ I must return home directly to dress for court; the queen has just sent for me; but I was determined to see you safely home myself. No cere- mony, no ceremony; I can find the way to my car- With these words the brazen creature, who had assumed the nate of one of the most respectable ladies in the peetfage, flounced out of the room down the staircase to her carriage, followed by the bowing husband and the obsequious landlady and servants, who had never set their eyes upon a real live duchess before; the latter, for years after, spoke of different events as having accrued go long before, or so long after, the Duchess of Peterfield stayed at her hotel. “It isa fine thing to be one served thé pretty bl 7 head waiter, as the of the quality,” ob- “dry your teats, for the sake of appearances.” “She is a fine Wonian.” The unhappy woman, anxious, as many have been| “ As fine a8 paint, patches, ahd silks,canmake her, — in a similar position, td preserve her reputation, | replied the fellow, chucking the Speaker under the although she had lust her virtie, a3 ladiés Wear paste | chin; * but give me flesh atid blood; I much who have parted with their raids id herself | rather -—= tees: 2 to be persiiaded and consoled—a task which the| A yl Voie of thi Wath Hirota BRE fir! interrupted colonel’s handsome Fie and insinuating thanhers | his speei ich he condtrued into a challenge, and renderéd less difficult than it would have been to | began struggling for a kiss, and would ordinary men, _ | too, had hot the shrill voice of the “We shall mect again, thy atgel,” he whispered, | end to the amorous envounter, as he left the room. “ Never,” she answered, with a burtiiie blush, and fixing her eyes upon the floor, unable to bear the triumphant look with which he regarded her; “never! You have destroyed my peace of mind by your treachery. Go—the sight of you is hateful to me.” Hamilton was too experienced in the arts of the sex. to take every thing he heard for gospel, or to despair of softening the rigour even of the most obdurate. But although he had thus gratified his love, he was not so heartless as to permit the conse- quences to fall upon the head of his victim. By his instruction, the mistress of the mansion, attired in an elegant morning dress, in a hired carriage, with ser- vants in rich liveries, drove the disconsolate Phyllis to the inn in the Borough, where the distracted hus- band had just returned, after passing the night in hunting over half the streets of London. ‘ *Don’t be confused,” said the experienced woman _ of the world to.the trembling creature who accom- panied her; “ there is nothing like an air of unconcern. It disarms suspicion, and puts a husband off his guard, Here, smell at my etui.” . The astonished waiter announced to the equally | astonished husband the name of the Duchess of Peterfield, as the ladies entered the rwom. The un- happy squire, who had passed the night tormented by jealousy and doubt, was pale as death, but his || cheek became suddenly flushed as he beheld her, | | . My wife!” he exclaimed. “Yes, your wife,” repeated the pretended duchers; . “and you may thank me for having takctt such care of ber. Poor child,” she added, “I found her like for she naturally felt angry at his conduct on the pre- ceding night, which had ex; her to so fearful a risk, Gradually and politically she suffered herself to be pacified by his entre&ties and excuses, secretly congratulating herself upon his unsuspicious nature, Not that the squire was really unsuspicious, but, like most of the English gentry, he had that slavish respect for the aristocracy, that he deemed the word of a duchess as sacred as the word of holy writ: it doubted either. “2 “ Come, Phyllis” he exclaimed, “ thou shalt not be alone to-night, Let me see a smile upon that po night in London, thou shalt have a month,” “I'd rather go home at once,” said his wife; “the bustle and confusion in the streets, the impndence of quite cured me of all desire for a town life, I am sure,” she added, “1 shall never forget last night.” T “TI suppose you did not sleep very well, my “Not too well.” “ Started, and were uneasy ?” “ Rather so,” “ Missed me from your side?” “Indeed I did not. But never mind last night, all over now,” she added, with a sigh, “and Ih no with to think of it again. Let’s bid our cousins Bow good-bye, and start to morrow shan’t feel happy till I am at hom ane Ape ee... a lip. Give me a kiss—and instead of staying a fort the men, who stare at every woman they meet, have dear?” to his wife as soon a3 the great lady had left them. would have been a species of blasphemy to have |