The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

32 REYNOLDS’ WORKS concealed from her, both by her parent and Mrs. Bailey, was equally certain. That the duke himself should never have spoken in a manner to make her aware of the cir- cumstance was not to be wondered at, for he had never talked to her about any of his relatives at all, and this silence on his part she could now likewise understand. For a man of his years to take unto himself a young wife was of course galling to that expectant kindred which had so much to gain by his dying childless. It would there- fore have been a delicate topic for him to touch upon, and without any other motive had he avoided it, for he himself was utterly ignorant of bygone circumstances in respect to Kliza and Bertram, — ignorant even that they had ever been acquainted. It was still further apparent that in respect to the Vivian family, certain promotions in the aristocratic hierarchy had given loftier titles, accompanied by changes in their distinctive names, so that not for an instant could she have possibly suspected that the Marquis of Viviandale had been elevated into the ducal grandeur of Marchmont; and if by chance the name of Lord Clandon had ever fallen upon her ear, she would have had no possible clue to asso- ciate it with the family to which the lost Bertram had be- longed. But now she comprehended it all, and again and again recurred the astounding thought that by a wondrous combination of circumstances she had entered the family which it was at one time the hope of her heart to enter, but that this entrance was effected, not as at that time she had so fondly anticipated, —1t was by her becoming the bride of the uncle, and not of the dearly cherished nephew, that the consummation was brought about. Oh, how she had been sacrificed! But so strong was the filial feeling in the bosom of this excellent young lady — so completely was it interwoven in her very nature — that even in the depth of her own anguished feelings she sought excuses for her father. He had longed to behold her settled in life; it was, after all, natural that his ambition should covet this haughty alliance for his daughter. He had acted only with the conscientiousness of a parent, and if in so doing he had driven deeper down into her heart the dagger that was already planted there, it was with no studied intent to inflict additional pain. No rancour therefore might her gentle bosom harbour against him, and to Gomicdooks (E(0)