The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

88 REYNOLDS’ WORKS the conduct of Bertram and Eliza toward each other, though without having the slightest appearance of doing so. His perception was now sharpened, and he caught a rapid ex- change of glances between them, which under other circum- stances he would not have noticed, but which were now fraught with a tremendous significancy to his imagination. After luncheon, Lord Clandon proposed a boating-party, which was readily assented to by every one present. Again did the duke, during this recreation, continue to watch his wife and Bertram, and nothing occurred to strengthen his suspicions, and once more did he endeavour to reason himself into the belief that they were utterly unfounded. At about four o'clock the company, leaving the boats, retraced their way to the mansion, and the ladies separated to their own cham- bers to make some change in their toilets. The duke retired to the library, which commanded a view of the grounds, and from the window did he keep watch. Presently he beheld Kliza and Bertram straying forth alone together, and slowly bending their steps toward the shady avenues. Again too did he descend by the private staircase and issue forth by the side door. It was a delicious autumnal afternoon, and a genial warmth filled the atmosphere. Eliza had already dressed herself for dinner, when putting off her boating raiment, so as to avoid the trouble of performing another toilet. She wore a dark half-mourning dress, with a low body, according to the fashion of the times. Her arms were bare, — those arms so exquisitely rounded; her bosom, neck, and shoulders shone dazzlingly in their polished whiteness. Nothing sets off a finely rounded form to greater advantage than dark apparel, and nothing can throw out the transpar- ent purity of the skin more brilliantly. The superb contours of Eliza’s shape, now in all the glory of rich womanhood, and the spotless beauty of her complexion, were thus advan- tageously displayed by her half-mourning garb. Her raven hair, with a rich velvet gloss upon it, flowed in heavy masses upon those dazzling shoulders, and formed a dark cloud against which her swanlike neck seemed an alabaster pillar. Never in the eyes of Bertram Vivian had she seemed so won- drously beautiful before, and as he walked by her side, gazing upon her with an irresistible fascination, his heart, first melting into tenderness, was soon rent with agony at the Gomichboo Ss (E(0)