The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

MRS. OXENDEN 125 with all her penetration and cunning, could not fathom what was really passing in her sister’s mind, and who therefore believed that her own arguments were making the wished- for impression, ‘‘ as yet Mr. Beverley is in total ignorance of the existence of that document which enables his uncle to disinherit him. He clings to the belief — as indeed he him- self assured me at Brighton not long since — that he is the heir presumptive to Sir John’s estates, which he supposes to be inalienable so far as the rigour of the entail is concerned. But he will find himself mistaken. Sir John does not how- ever wish that the intelligence should be communicated to him until all proceedings now pending be finished and settled. My dear Laura, what more need I urge, what more need I say? On the one hand, a title and wealth await you; on the other hand, a title, perhaps, but inevitable poverty. And then you must consider, my dear sister, that you owe some duteousness and gratitude toward me; and by assent- ing to this marriage with Sir John Steward, you will place me beyond the reach of anxious cares for the future.”’ ‘“‘ Enough, sister, enough!’ said Laura. “ I have nothing to reply to your arguments.” Mrs. Oxenden could scarcely keep back an exclamation of wild, tumultuous joy, as, interpreting her sister’s response ac- cording to her own wishes, she beheld therein the triumph of her schemes. She embraced the young maiden, lavishing caresses upon her; and then she issued from the chamber, with the intimation that she must rejoin Sir John for another half-hour in the drawing-room ere she could retire to rest. When Laura was alone she wept for a few moments at the thought of having played the hypocrite in the presence of her sister, and in having suffered her to depart under a false impression with regard to her sentiments and views. But she soon ceased to trouble and agitate herself on this point, for naturally ingenuous and truth-loving though she were, yet she could not help feeling that whatsoever duplicity or con- cealment she had just been practising was not merely venial, but even justifiable under existing circumstances. Hastily wiping away her tears, she sat down to pen her letter to Edgar Beverley. In the meantime Mrs. Oxenden had returned to the draw- ing-room, where the baronet was half-reclining upon a sofa, sipping a glass of choice liqueur. Mrs. Oxenden placed her- COnnicloookKks (CO)