The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 183: what you’re looking at

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

160 REYNOLDS’ WORKS to-night your looks and manner have been so peculiar — and then, too, the circumstance of that letter — in a word, my dear Hugh, I was resolved to take a bold step and speak to you in a way which I have not before ventured upon. Will you forgive me? Will you attribute my pro- ceeding to its true motive? And listen to me, dear Hugh,” continued Lavinia, with her tearful countenance upturned toward the duke, ‘if there be anything I can do to con- tribute to your happiness, or if my presence be hateful to you, tell me so, and I will leave you.” “Ah, you would abandon me?” ejaculated the duke, scarcely knowing at the moment what he was saying, but probably speaking from the impulse of one who felt that he was not in a position to part with a single friend who was in any way interested in his welfare, ‘‘ you would abandon me, and perhaps you would league yourself with my enemies? ”’ | ‘‘ Heaven forbid!’’ exclaimed Lavinia, vehemently, “‘ never, never! But, oh, your words are a revelation. You have enemies? Tell me who they are, tell me how their enmity is developing itself. Oh, now, my dear Hugh, you can put my affection to the test, and you will see that I have really known how to forgive and forget all the past.” ‘‘ Ah, this constant recurrence to the past!” ejaculated the duke, impatiently. ‘““T meant it not as a reproach, much less as an offence,” said Lavinia, deprecatingly and earnestly. ‘I only wish you to understand that I am the same toward you in respect to my duty as I ever was, and it requires but one kind word from your lips to make me the same toward you in respect to love.” There are times when the hearts of even the vilest and most worthless of men are susceptible of the influence of woman’s love, and when the softness of that feminine de- votion has an ineffable soothing balm for the wounded spirit, even though that spirit be tortured by the suicidal inflictions of its own crimes. Such was the state of the Duke of Marchmont now, and a strong revulsion of feeling took place within him. For a long period he had hated his wife, he had treated her with cold neglect, as well as with flagrant indignity, but now all of a sudden his heart seemed to warm toward her; he looked upon her counte- ECORNICLOOKS (E(0)