The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

42 REYNOLDS’ WORKS grapple with the Destroyer’s power, but vainly and ineffect- ually; Eliza’s father was on his death-bed. As the gray dawn of morning glimmered in through the casements and made the wax lights burn pale, the spirit passed out of the form which for several hours had remained in slumbering unconsciousness. | The duke led his deeply afflicted wife away from the cham- ber, and besought her to seek rest in her own boudoir. Even in the midst of her acute anguish, her profound sorrow, she could not help being smitten with a sense of her husband’s considerate kindness toward her, and for the first time, per- haps, since the marriage ring was placed upon her finger, she pressed his hand with a sincerely felt warmth. We will not linger upon this scene. The reader who already com- prehends the tenderness of Eliza’s heart, and the full extent of her devoted attachment toward her father, can picture to himself the immensity of the sorrow which her soul ex- perienced. The funeral took place, and the remains of Captain Lacey were consigned to a vault in the village church at Oaklands, about a mile distant from the ducal mansion. Thus how soon did the gloom of a funeral succeed to the gaiety of a wedding, how soon did mourning garments clothe the exquisitely fair form which had lately been arrayed in a bridal dress! Captain Lacey had brought his writing-desk in his port- manteau to Oaklands. The duke, through kindest consider- ation for his beloved duchess, caused every article belonging to her deceased father to be carefully put out of sight, save and except that writing-desk, which he thought might pos- sibly contain papers, perhaps a will; for his Grace was not altogether acquainted with his departed father-in-law’s pecuniary circumstances. At all events he considered that whatever there might be in the desk, it was the sacred duty of Eliza alone to open it. Therefore, at the expiration of about a month after the funeral, — when the first bitterness of anguish had passed, and the mind of the bereaved daughter was becoming subdued down into the serenity of a holy and pious resignation, — the duke one day took that desk into her boudoir, presented her with the key, which had been found in the deceased’s garments, and imprinting a kiss upon her cheek, left her to the fulfilment of a sad but necessary task. Eliza recognized her father’s desk in a moment, and Gomichbooks (E(0)