The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

198 REYNOLDS’ WORKS letter; I therefore resolved to come personally, though foreseeing that the interview would bea painful one. Now, arm yourself with all that courage which is naturally your own, call to your aid all that strength of mind with which Providence has endowed you. In loving me, you have fixed your affections on one who cannot love you in return: would you have me, then, proclaim the contrary? It would be a falsehood.” ‘Tf you love me not,’’ answered Indora, sadly and softly, ‘‘and you have often, too often told me this much before, at least you may have compassion upon me. My own love might inspire you with sympathy, and sympathy is a tender feeling, akin to love itself.” ‘“‘Indora, the truth must indeed be spoken, stern though it may be, pitiless though it may appear. I cannot — I dare not marry you. And now, I beseech and implore that you will summon all Christian fortitude and resignation to your aid.” The superb head of the Indian princess drooped slowly down upon her bosom, and her arms, with the hands clasped, drooped likewise languidly over her magnificent dress. It seemed as if she had sunk into despair, and that all sense of the possibility of earthly happiness had left her. Redcliffe was evidently moved; from the very bottom of his soul he pitied her, and whatsoever sense remained in his memory of that past evil sustained at her hands, and to which he had alluded, it all died away within him. He was too magnani- mous at that moment to entertain any other feeling than one of profound compassion. He lingered; he thought that he was bound to say something more, —something soul- strengthening if not hopefully cheering, something mentally fortifying, if not tenderly encouraging. But all in an instant smitten with the conviction that the scene ought to end as speedily as possible, he abruptly threw on his cloak, and exclaiming, ‘‘ Farewell, Indora! may you be happy yet,” was hastening to leave the room. ‘‘ No, one word ere we part,’’ cried the princess, springing toward him, and her exquisitely shaped hand grasped his arm. ‘‘ One word, Clement Redcliffe, for we cannot separate thus.”’ ‘What would you say?’ asked Redcliffe, with averted looks, and with visible impatience to take his departure. EORNICLIOO KS (E(0)