The Mysteries of the Court of London by Pauline Clarendon — page 382: what you’re looking at

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

EARL AND COUNTESS OF DESBOROUGH = 370 which her countenance had assumed, revealed the faultless teeth, white as the pearls of the East. He beheld, too, the polished and exquisitively shaped arms, thrust forth from the large sleeves of the negligent wrapper, the hands uniting insensibly with those arms as in the statue of the Venus de Medici. Yes, thus might his looks embrace the charms of his lovely wife; but, although at length he recovered. self-possession enough to raise her from her knees, he em- braced her not, neither did he even offer so much as to touch her forehead with his lips. ‘Say, will you pardon me, Francis?’’ she exclaimed, sinking back upon the sofa. “ Just Heaven! it is for me to implore your forgive.ess, Eleanor!’’ he said, his countenance expressing all the agony that rent his soul. ‘No, it is for me!” she responded, emphatically. ‘I have been unkind, ungenerous toward you; but, believe me, I have never failed to appreciate all that 1s good and great in your disposition, all that.is noble and elevated in your character. Heaven knows that I have reasoned with myself so often, oh, so often, that I wonder how I have not yet succeeded in tutoring my mind to the entertainment of other thoughts, other ideas, other sentiments toward you. But you cannot put faith in what I now tell you, you cannot understand the sincerity of my sorrow and remorse; you remember that the present scene is but a repetition of many former ones, and you look upon me as capricious, changeable, and vacillating. Yes, yes, such are your im- pressions, Francis, and you are justified in thinking thus of me.”’ . As these last words fell from the lips of the countess, she covered her face with her hands, and the pearly tears trickled between her long, taper fingers. There was a pause, a silence in that room; and then a sob — a half-stifled sob — came floating upon the lady’s ear. She started, raised her head, and looked rapidly toward her husband. He had reseated himself; both his elbows rested upon the table, and his hands supported his face, which they likewise concealed. He was evidently wrestling against emotions profoundly excited — but vainly wrestling; for his chest heaved convulsively, and the strong, powerful, vigorous Man was weeping like a child. CONnnicloool Ks (EO)