The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER V BERTRAM VIVIAN Eu1zA rose from her seat, and the duke took her hand to present her to her relative, — that relative whom he fancied she had never in her life seen before, but, alas! whom she had known so well and loved so tenderly. She was white as a sheet, and her deathlike pallor was rendered all the more visible by the half-mourning garb that she wore. Her raven hair, arranged in massive bands, threw out, as it were, the colourless countenance in its purest marble relief; her lip were of the hue of ashes; but there was a strange light glisten- ing in her eyes as she bowed to Bertram Vivian. Then there was a quick revulsion of feeling within her, pangs of ineffable anguish shooting in rapid succession through her heart; and while her fortitude was sufficient to prevent any outburst of that woe, any ebullition of that harrowing agony, it had the effect, on the other hand, of sending up the hectic hues of excitement to her cheeks, so that her husband, as he glanced with proud satisfaction upon his young wife, while introduc- ing her to Bertram, thought that she had never seemed so beautiful before. And Bertram Vivian himself, how looked, how felt he? He was now in his twenty-fourth year, a young man of Apollo-like beauty. His hair clustered in raven curls of exceeding richness about that high marble forehead where Genius sat enthroned, his tall slender figure was masculine symmetry itself. But he, too, was deadly pale; yet to the duke’s eye was no agitation on his part visible. But how different to the eyes of Eliza! The glance, the one glance, which she had dared throw upon him, made her aware in an instant that he was a prey to a deep, silent, inward agitation, as tremendous and as excruciating as that which she felt 50 Gomicbooks (E(0)