The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 327: what you’re looking at

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

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF LONDON LIFE church. The former thrust a pocket- book into Rose’s hand: it contained one hundred pounds. She took it passively—slmost reluctantly. “ One kiss,” he added, “ to seal my happiness; the next shall be demanded at the altar, Rose.” She shuddered as for the first time his lips met hers. They felt like the seal of misery set to her future life, Nancy received her half fainting from his arms, . “So sudden—such an unexpected happiness!” she whispered to her master, willing to put the best con- struction upen Rose’s manner, “Ah, sir, you will be a happy man,” The fool thought so—indeed, for a brief time he WAs 50, Instead of returning to the house of his uncle, Wil- mott and his evil genius returned to the tavern, where the night was passed in drinking champagne, and pledging the health of the intended bride, by the glowing description of whose person, or the joys he would find within her arms, Faddle kept up his dupe’s excitement, “ Ay,” hiccupped the bridegroom, “ she is indeed a bride for love’s own couch.’’ His companion nodded significantly that he thought the same. “Poor Ellen!” he added, as a gleam of recollection reminded him of his unhappy cousin. “Think not of her. She will feel it at first, no doubt; but she may be consoled.” “ Never!” Faddle only smiled. “By yourself, perhaps?” “ Perhaps.” “ Make her a good husband, and | snd Rose will dance at your wedding. Come,” he added, “‘ no more wine. My brain is on fire, and my heart parched with wine. I must sleep—sleep—or I shall make a sorry bridegroom in the morning.”’ “Take a cup of coffee first.” The bell was rung and the coffee ordered by Faddle, whose companion lay in a dreamy state of existence, stretched at his length upon the sofa. As the false friend poured it out for his victim, he contrived to drop a grain of a powder which he knew by experience would keep up the feverish excitement of the drinker’s blood without affecting his reason. The captain was an old hand at such practices. At the gaming table he had found the knowledge of them not only lucra- tive, but prudent. Dick, who had received the cue from his master, hastened to the house of Nancy, and used so well the blarneying tongue which nature had given him and the world polished, that be prevailed upon her to let the marriage be made a double one, by uniting her fate with his—much to the discontent of her father, whose secret hope had long been to see her the wife of his friend, the overseer of the factery, Mr. Pike. “Well, Nance,” said her mother, after all was settled, and her suitor had departed, “I am afraid whether you have made a right choice or not.” “ Why did you consent, then, mother?” demanded the girl. “On principle, Nancy.” “ Principle |” _ “Yes; never to let your father have his own way. Were I once to indulge bim, he wou'd grow so inso- lent upon it, I should never have a will of my own again. Ah! child,” she added, “ matrimony is some- thing like a twelfth-cake—all the sugar lies at the top, unless you manage to cut it prudently, Tell me, — ee ee me ——— | a ee ~ — — 326 have you ever considered how you are to manage a husband ?” “ Lord, mother, I thought he was to manage me.” Mrs. Bartlett was struck all of a heap, as she after wards confessed, at the infamous notion of her daugh- ter. The idea of a woman being managed by any one was derogatory to her ideas of the prerogative of the sex, above all by a husband. “ Nancy, child,” she bitterly exclaimed, “ you never got that notion from me,” “Never, mother,” replied the girl, endeavouring to look serious; for she had been trained in too good a school to be the simpleton in the art of domestic government which, to tease her mother, she had feigned. The rest of the night was passed by Rose and her friend in making such preparation for the morning as the shortness of the notice permitted. It is astonish- ing what a little skill with the needle will do. By the aid of a few ribbands the simple dresses of the two girls were made to look presentable for the occasion, Rose Ashford wept bitterly as she sewed the last bow on hers. The captain’s servant Dick was not the most happy person in the affair. The fellow was naturally amor- ous; the piquant manner and sparkling eyes of his in- tended bride had made an impression on his heart, and he chafed and fretted like a chained hound to think that he was to go through the farce of marry- ing her merely to place her in the arms of another. Had there been any means of escape from the dis- graceful compact, he would have done so; but he knew the pitiless hands into which he had fallen, and felt he had no resource but to follow whichever way his master chose to pull the chain. Although the marriage took place before nine on the following morning, the rumour had reached the fac- tory, and a large crowd of men and girls were assem- bled to see the party quit the church. Rose hung her head as the triumphant Wilmott led her towards the carriage, She feared to encounter in the crowd the eye of one whose glance would have been a dagger to her heart. It was a joyless wedding; not a friend, save the master-fiend who had planned it, to bid the brides “God bless them” on their way. Even the volatile Nancy felt that her spirit was chilled; the anticipa tion of something dreadful hung over her as she viewed the lugubrious countenance of her husband, on whom Faddle continually kept his eye. Poor Dick felt like a cat who was watched while longing for cream, “ Villain!’ exclaimed a deep, stern voice, as Wil- mott passed the crowd, whom the beadles kept back on either side, Tle bridegroom raised his eyes, and beheld his uncle, “Go, fair bride,” said Walter Maynard, as his oye at last encountered that of Rose; “go, enjoy thy dear-bought splendour; feel your chains until they gnaw into your very heart, When riches pall, and false love cools, think on my curse, Rose—the curse of him whose heart you bave broken,” “ Hold, Walter !” shrieked the unhappy girl, as she sank fainting into her husband’s arms; “ I am already !” Amid the hisses of the multitude the dashing equipage drove off with the two friends and the in- sensible bride. Nancy and her precious bargain got into a hackney coach, and went to keep their wedding-day at the (CO) MICOOOKS (CO) im