The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 336: what you’re looking at

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

THE PEARLS 30d now piqued, for the pearls seemed to be of that costly nature which denoted some liberal and most probably wealthy donor, and she was naturally anxious to learn who the in- dividual could be. At least thirty letters lay upon the table; doubtless amongst them would she find one clearing up the mystery. She therefore took all the letters, together with the case of pearls, in her hands, and tripped back to her couch. But before she opened a single letter Venetia could not resist the temptation of placing the string of pearls upon the rich masses of her auburn hair and then surveying her- self in a little toilet hand-mirror which lay on the table close by. It was one of those involuntary acts of vanity of which even the most intellectual women are capable, and to which all beautiful females are impelled, as it were, by the very consciousness of beauty. Venetia saw that the pearls became her admirably, and that though her hair was negli- gently tied up, its shining luxuriance set off those ornaments to their utmost advantage. But a smile of sweet triumph played upon her coral lips as the thought struck her that it was her hair which set off the exquisite beauty of the pearls, rather than the pearls setting off the glossy glory of those silken masses. But while that smile was still lingering upon her lips, revealing pearls as pure, as white, and as even as the string which now rested upon her head, the feeling of curiosity to ascertain who sent the gift sprang up with additional force, and flinging down the mirror, she began opening the letters one after another. Hastily glancing at the name of each writer, so as to form an idea of the contents, she dis- posed of the epistles and notes with a running commentary uttered audibly and in a musing tone. “An invitation to the Duchess of Darlington’s for next Monday evening. And how very courteously worded! — ‘ Dearest Lady Sackville.’ I remember that when I was yet plain Venetia Trelawney, my carriage one day accidentally came in contact with that of the magnificent duchess, through the carelessness of her own coachman, when she gave me a look which said as plainly as ever eyes yet spoke, ‘ I wonder who this creature is whose carriage comes within even a dozen yards of mine!’ And now she is ready to kiss the ground upon which I tread. Ah! here is a letter from EORTC OOS (E(0)