The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

THE DUCHESS OF MARCHMONT 25 beauty and your worth have raised you to the highest pinnacle. Once more — and for the last time — must I allude to something connected with the past.” Here the duchess shuddered as if witha glacial chill shooting through her, although it was the sultry month of July. Her pale countenance became paler, and her hand was instinct- ively placed upon her heart, for there was Bertram Vivian’s ring concealed. ‘Only a few words,”’ said Captain Lacey, quickly, for he saw this emotion and comprehended it. ‘‘ You now belong to another; you are the bride of a nobleman whose honour is unimpeachable, as his rank is lofty and his wealth im- mense. I need scarcely tell you, Eliza, that he knows nothing of the past, and if you be wise, if you be prudent, if indeed you wish to be kind and considerate toward him, you will cherish that as your own secret, or, rather, forget that it ever was.” “TI cannot, father,’ said Eliza, in a low, deep voice. ‘““T cannot forget it. But, as you have observed, it is my secret, and it shall remain so. Let me relieve you of all ap- prehension on that head. I am now the duke’s wife; I com- prehend all that is becoming on my part in my new position. I should feel honoured and flattered by his preference of me, did I possess a heart still capable of being moved by such feelings, but at least I shall be careful not to wound nor shock my husband by suffering him to know that I have loved another, that I cannot love him, that the power of loving a second time is dead within me.”’ ‘* Dearest daughter,’ exclaimed Captain Lacey, ‘‘I am delighted and distressed to hear you speak thus, — delighted to find that you so admirably appreciate the duties of your new position, distressed to think that the memory of the past is still so strong within you.”’ ‘* Father,” replied Eliza, earnestly, ‘‘ distress not yourself on my account. It is done; I am resigned, if I be not con- tented. No, distress not yourself; but God grant that all possible happiness may be yours for the remainder of your days,’ and as she uttered these last words, tears trickled slowly down the pale cheeks of the Duchess of Marchmont. “Eliza, my darling,’ said the old man, much moved, “let me see you exercise a becoming fortitude.” “YT am strong, and I am calm, too, again, father,’’ re- (EONMICLNOO KS (E(0)