The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

THE EXPERIMENT 123 self that the affection his wife cherished for him was deep, tender, and sincere. It was about half-past ten o’clock when he issued forth from his mansion to pay the accustomed visit to Augusta, and he set out thus early, according to, the promise made her on the preceding day. On reaching the little villa, he found Mrs. Chesterfield expecting his arrival, and she wel- comed him with the usual amount of blandishments, caresses, and smiles, all lavishly given and rapturously received. Again did he seek in his own mind to contrast the fervid en- dearments of Augusta with the more ingenuous and unso- phisticated evidences of his wife’s affection, but the com- parison he drew was favourable to the former. He sought to persuade himself that there was something insipid and mawkishly sentimental in the love of Stephanie, while the ardent caresses of his mistress filled his soul with an almost frenzied passion. It was a complete infatuation under which he laboured in respect to Mrs. Chesterfield; it was a devouring, furious stormlike whirl of passion through which, by her blandishments and the gorgeous splendour of her voluptuous beauty, she had the power to hurry him. ‘“ Dearest Augusta,’’ he said, in the course of conversation, “I have a great favour to ask you.” “ There is no favour, beloved Jules, that you can demand at my hands,’ responded the siren, “‘ which I am not pre- _ pared to grant. Name it. Is it some new proof of my de- voted love which you require? ”’ ‘No, scarcely that,’’ answered the viscount. “ I will ex- plain myself in a few words. Yesterday I met a friend, a certain Monsieur Meurice, who was a schoolfellow of mine, a gentleman of wealth and standing, and he dined with me last evening. Remember, Augusta, he is one of my oldest acquaintances, and we entertain a very sincere friendship for each other. I sought an opportunity to speak to him alone, of old reminiscences, — those schoolboy days which it is sometimes so pleasant to look back upon; and the discourse, by a natural transition, turned upon the present circumstances of each of us. Your image was uppermost in my mind; I longed to eulogize you to my friend. I could not resist the opportunity; my heart was so full of love and devotion for you that it needed a vent for its feelings. Besides, it is so sweet to confide to the ear of friendship all CONNIE DOOKS (F©)