The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

162 REYNOLDS’ WORKS hope that it will revive somewhat of your love toward me.” ‘‘ Lavinia,’ rejoined the duke, in a low, deep voice, while he gazed fixedly upon his wife, ‘“‘I shall experience the deepest gratitude toward you; and gratitude, you know, is a sentiment which under certain circumstances expands into love. On the other hand, I fear lest the love you ex- perience for me —”’ ‘‘ Will be impaired? ”’ ejaculated the duchess. ‘“ No, no, impossible. Give me an opportunity of proving my love, and I shall love you all the more for having done this. I do not deceive you as to my motives, — I am seeking the return of your confidence and of your love. This I would purchase at almost any price, and therefore think not that the past in respect to yourself will shock me. I shall look upon it as something to be forgotten.” “TI thank you beforehand, Lavinia; yes, beforehand accept my gratitude,” exclaimed the duke. ‘ But no more to-night. To-morrow I will tell you what it is that I re- quire at your hands. Return to your guests at once — and again, Lavinia, accept my gratitude.” The duke took her hand and raised it to his lips. It was not altogether an act of dissimulation, nor for the purpose of cajoling one whom he sought to render serviceable in the terrible difficulties of his position, but 1t was that in the midst of these difficulties he found one who was pre- pared to befriend him and who would devote herself to his cause. Lavinia, by her amiable conduct, was making a wife’s love necessary, as 1t were, to a man who had hitherto proved a vile husband; she was exercising that soft fem- inine influence to which we have before alluded, and at the very moment when it was so much needed to soothe and strengthen the tortured spirit of him who was thus brought to acknowledge it. He took her hand, we say, but she, bursting into tears, threw herself into his arms, weeping and sobbing convulsively. There was happiness and there was sorrow in her soul; there was joy and there was grief, — joy at being thus enabled to play the part of the ministering angel, but grief at the thought that her husband should have woes and cares requiring such minis- tration. Yes, she sank upon his breast, and as the duke contemplated that beautifully handsome woman, now only ECORNICIOOKS (E(0)