The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 346: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXVII AMY Tue village of Headcorn is at no great distance from the town of Ashford in the county of Kent. About a quarter of a mile from Headcorn stood a neat little cottage in the midst of a garden, and the place was the property of an elderly woman, — the widow of a small farmer who had held land in that neighbourhood. It was in this cottage that Amy Sutton, formerly lady’s-maid to the Duchess of Marchmont, was now lodging. Some weeks had elapsed since her meeting with Christian Ashton in the train on her journey to Headcorn, and the reason which had induced the unfortunate young woman to seek this retirement could no longer be concealed from the eyes of the world. She was in a way to become a mother. It was in the afternoon, and Amy was seated alone in the little parlour which she occupied at the cottage. There was a work-basket on the table, but she did not work; there were books on a shelf, but she had recourse to none of them to beguile the time. She was plunged in deep thought, and the expression of her countenance would have shown to an observer, if any at the time were near, that the tenor of her reflections was of a dark, ominously brooding char- acter. She had informed Christian of the exact truth in respect to the black treachery which Marchmont had per- petrated toward her, and she was resolved on vengeance. Amy was naturally one-of those dispositions that, coldly implacable when once a determination of this sort was settled, exhibited no feverish impatience to carry it out until opportunity served. She would bide her time, and there- fore hers was a character all the more dangerous, and the 316 CORNICLOOKS (CO)