The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

THE SHADY AVENUE 87 quite unconscious who was hidden by those bushes, they did pass. ‘‘T shall leave immediately after breakfast to-morrow morning,’ Bertram was saying. “I must first repair to London, to pay my respects to the Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and then without loss of time must I proceed to Florence. It is most kind of my uncle to have interested himself in procuring me this appointment.”’ ‘Most kind,’’ observed Eliza. Then there was a pause in the discourse, so that as they passed on, the duke heard no more of the conversation when it was resumed. But if through the dense foliage his eyes had been able to observe the countenance of the two lovers, he would have seen that their looks were mournfully sig- nificant enough, though the words which had reached his ears were without the slightest import. Yet even in them there was a significancy, though the duke comprehended it not. They had been conversing seriously on the approach- ing separation; they had exerted all their fortitude to the attunement of their minds to the point necessary to make them recognize and acknowledge that it was better they should thus separate. There was consequently in their hearts a thankfulness of deeper meaning toward the duke than that which their words seemed to express, — a thank- fulness that through his interest the opportunity and period had been brought about for a separation which they both laboured to recognize as so necessary. But the Duke of Marchmont, who neither saw their looks nor had overheard the previous portions of their discourse, was for a moment shocked that he should have given way to jealous suspicions on the faith of an anonymous letter. He was seized with a sense of profound humiliation; the natural pride of his soul revolted against his own conduct, and hurrying away from his hiding-place, he regained the mansion by a circuitous path. Nevertheless the fiend of suspicion had obtained an entry into his soul; the demon of jealousy could not be so readily expelled as he wished, hoped, and thought. He endeavoured to compose himself to write, but he could not. He was rest- less and uneasy, and twenty times during the next hour did he draw forth the anonymous letter and scan its contents again. When luncheon was served up, he carefully watched EORNICLIOOKS (E(O)