The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

THE SEAMSTRESS. 115 ee sincere grief, all those evidences of a profoundly seated afiliction which during the last two years your own retired and peculiar mode of life has so unmistakably furnished. We should have proffered our consolations long ere this: but your sorrow seemed too sacred for such intrusion.” “T thank you, Charles—sincerely thank you, for these expressions of sympathy,” said the Duchess, in a tone of plaintive sorrow and melt- ing softness. ‘“ But have you not also your cares? —and has not poor Mary her woes likewise? Alas! alas! a spell appears to have fallen upon this house—an evil genius seems to have obtained the power of blighting every bud of happiness that ventures to expand beneath this roof!” “ First, then, my dear mother-in-law,” said the Marquis of Arden, “let me learn the secret of your unhappiness.” . * No, Charles—we will speak of your younger sister and yourself in the first instance,” replied the Duchess. “And to begin with Mary—she is perishing visibly before our eyes, and no one appears to have the courage, the inclination, or the power to extend a hand to save her! What is the meaning of all this? She loves the Earl of Mos- tyndale—and she is beloved in return. What barrier exists to their union ? wherefore does Mos- tyndale absent himself, when it is notorious that he is enamoured of Mary beyond all possibility of change? But while he is either excluded from the house, or else constrained by some unseen in- fluence to keep away, a purse-proud man is suf- fered to have the run of the mansion precisel¥ as if it were his own. You cannot fail to compre- hend, Charles, that I allude to Mr. Collinson m “The villain!” muttered the young Marquis between his quivering lips, as the scene in the saloon flamed up with fearful vividness in his memory. “ Ah! you call him a harsh name,” said the Duchess, whose ear had caught the expression ; “and you are therefore acquainted with his evil designs? For that he does meditate evil towards your father, or some one beneath this roof, Ffeel confident. "Without being superstitious, I do not altogether mistrust presentiments a “ And if you have experienced a presentiment of evil with regard to Collinson,” exclaimed Charles, bitterly, “ you have assuredly not erred in yielding to it. Know, then, that the bailiffs are once more in possession of Belmont House ” “Ah!” ejaculated the Duchess, with a start: “then I was not misinformed! One of my maids casually mentioned to me just now that she had seen in the waiting-room a couple of ill-looking individuals who were here—on the night of the ball—just two years ago,’ continued Augusta, gasping with the emotions that were suddenly aroused in her bosom: “and on hearing that intelligence, all the presentiments which have haunted me for weeks and months past, seemed to concentrate their forebodings and fill my heart ‘almost to bursting with the auguries of evil thus conjured up. Then was it that I resolved to post- pone no more my long wished for and too long deferred conference with you. Tell me, Charles— tell me—what do you know of your father’s affairs?—are they irretrievable?—is Collinson at the bottom of this second invasion on the part of the officers of the law ?—and if so, how is it all to end ?” ere “Ah! that is the question which I keep asking myself a hundred times in a minute,” exclaimed Charles, with the sudden excitement of an almost Trenzied wildness; — “and no possible conjec- ture or foresight can furnish a solution to the query !” “Tell me all you know, Charles—tell me every- thing, I entreat you!” said the Duchess, in a tone of the most earnest and solemn appeal. “ Amidst my own deep sorrows I have not been unmind- ful of the change which has come over yourself within the last eighteen months or two years: but I have not ventured until this evening to ques- tion you upon the subject. I thought that if it were consistent with your feelings to seek solace at my hands and make me your confidant, you would do so unasked and uninvited by me: and as you are no longer a child, I did not consider myself justified in intruding upon the privacy of your soul’s sentiments. The cause of your poor sister’s sorrow, I have of course heard, seen, and understood: that, alas! is no secret in the house- hold —no secret amongst all her friends and ac- quaintances. But you, Charles, are cherishing some deeply-seated woe, the nature of which my conjectures cannot fathom: and if you deem me worthy of your confidence, I am at length dis- posed to be daring enough to invite it. Remem- ber, my dear boy, I am not seeking to exercise over you the authority of a mother-in-law: I am addressing you as a friend—treating you as such i “And as such will I regard you—as such wi!l I treat you in return!” exclaimed Charles. ‘“ More- over, I feel that I need your advice—your counsel in many, many things, and that it will be a relief to my soul to pour forth all its pent-up anguish and shape it in words that your ears may drink it in and your heart appreciate its magnitude. But first of all, my dear mother-in-law,” said Charles, drawing his chair closer towards her and fixing his looks with an earnest commiseration upon her countenance, as if he already pitied in advance the tremendous agonies which his revealings were about to excite in her breast,—*first of all,” he said, in a low deep tone, “I must warn you that you are on the threshold of astounding discoveries —that you are on the point of hearing terrible and startling things!” “Tell me everything, Charles—suppress nothing,” said the noble lady, with a feverish impatience. “T am nerved—I am prepared ' “No, no—you cannot be!” ejaculated the Mar- quis. ‘“ Widely as your conjectures may range, they cannot possibly embrace the horrors which are in store for you !” “ Horrors!—in store for me!’ echoed the Duchess, aghast at the fearful nature of the warning just given. “Yes—horrors of the blackest, blackest dye !’’ responded Charles, his eyes dilating with omi- nous fire and his lips turning white as those of a corpse. “Just heavens! what mean you?” demanded the Duchess, her blanched visage convulsed with all the agonies of a torturing suspense, while her bosom paipitated violently. ‘ You speak of hor- rors—you must doubtless mean crimes.” * 1 do—I do,” murmured Charles between his set teeth. “Crimes most damnable é *Q God! who has perpetrated them?’ asked COA (SO)