The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 372: what you’re looking at

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

UNCONSCIOUS REVELATIONS 341 theless, he reached his home in safety. Springing from his horse, he tossed the bridle to the domestic, who was half- astonished and half-frightened at his master’s appearance, but Meredith saw not the effect which his strangely wild excitement produced. He rushed into the house, he sum- moned his valet, and gave immediate orders for his clothes to be packed up and for the carriage to be got in readiness, as he intended to start by the night train for Dover. The valet was as astonished as the other domestic had been, and yet he knew his master too well to suppose for an instant that he had been drinking. He therefore thought that some sudden calamity, or else some serious indiscretion, must have driven Lord Octavian Meredith to the resolve of this precipi- tate departure. In order to lead Octavian, if possible, into conversation, the valet inquired, with every appearance of completest deference, whether his lordship did not intend to see Mr. Armytage before he took his departure. ‘“No, it is not necessary,’ replied Meredith, petulantly. “‘T will leave a note, to be sent to him to-morrow. Hasten you to get everything in readiness; prepare your own things likewise, for you will accompany me.” Having thus spoken, Octavian hastened to the drawing- room, where he sat down and penned a few lines to Mr. Armytage. He simply said that being alarmed on account of Zoe’s health, and considering that he was not doing his duty in allowing her thus to remain separated from him, he was about to rejoin her with the least possible delay. He then thought of writing a few last words to Christina, but he could pen nothing that satisfied him. Sheet after sheet did he tear up, and when the valet entered to announce that everything was ready for immediate departure, Lord Octa- vian was commencing a new epistle, and still too without any satisfaction to himself. This last sheet of paper he there- fore tore into fragments, like the former ones, and speeding down the stairs, he sprang into the carriage. Now he gave full vent to the excitement which was tor- turing him; he covered his face with his hands, he burst into an agony of weeping; he sobbed like a woman or a child. “© Christina, Christina,” he murmured, in a broken voice, “ to think that you could have loved another! ” The unhappy young nobleman proceeded to Dover; on CORnNICLOOKS (CO)