The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 192: what you’re looking at

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

A WOMAN’S LOVE 169 the voice of the duchess quivered and faltered more and more, “ for I have read that paragraph in the newspaper.’’ ‘“My servant lies in a very dangerous condition. She is totally unconscious, but still the medical attendant gives hope of her eventual recovery,’’ and as Indora thus spoke, she fixed her dark eyes earnestly upon the duchess as if to fathom the motives of this visit. ‘“My present proceeding must have already appeared most singular,’’ continued Lavinia, scarcely knowing how to approach the subject which she had to explain, ‘ and perhaps when my purpose is made known, it may appear more singular still— But, oh, madam, whatever cause of offence my husband may have given you, I beseech your ladyship to pardon him.” Again did Indora fix her eyes upon the duchess, for she was full of wonderment as to the extent of the revela- tions which the duke might have made to his wife, and to what topics such revelations might refer. Lavinia sus- pected what was passing in the queen’s mind, and she hastened to say, “‘ Of those causes of offence I am utterly ignorant, Lady Indora. All that the duke has told me is that he has offended you, that you have the power to injure him, that you are exercising this power — and, oh, he is very, very unhappy! But he implores your for- bearance, he beseeches you to accept the assurance of his contrition; he would have come to you if he had dared, but on his behalf do I kneel at your feet.” And with these words Lavinia sank down to a suppliant posture, taking Indora’s hand and pressing it with the warmth of entreaty, while she looked up with imploring gaze into Indora’s countenance. The queen was profoundly touched by the pathos of this appeal; she saw in a moment that the duke was making a blind and uninformed instru- ment of his wife, and she pitied her. ‘““ Rise, madam,” she said; “‘ it is not for you to kneel at my feet, although — But rise, I conjure you. Oh, now you weep, Duchess of Marchmont, and I cannot bear to behold these tears.’’ ‘““ Lady, you are all goodness,’”’ murmured Lavinia; “ yes, I read your character in your countenance. You will not _be stern and unrelenting. Of whatsoever offences my husband may be guilty, and I seek not to know them—’”’ CORnnICLOoOKS (CO)