The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 378: what you’re looking at

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

THE DESK 347 astatia had swept her letters and papers into her desk on that afternoon when he (Sir Frederick) had sought her in the drawing-room, as already alluded to. All these reflections troubled the great City merchant, and in spite of himself he felt those suspicions which were agitating his mind, gathering strength and power, although of so vague and indefinite a character. From what the reader has seen of the merchant’s dis- position, he may have comprehended that beneath a cer- tain exterior show of cold pride and subdued ostentation, there was no small amount of real meanness and and petti- ness. These little feelings were even now rising uppermost, and under their influence Sir Frederick found himself leav- ing the study and making his way up to that apartment where Anastatia’s writing-desk usually stood upon a small table in a recess. On entering this apartment, Sir Frederick looked at the writing-desk with an expression of countenance as if he were saying to himself, ‘‘ That desk doubtless con- tains the means of elucidating this mystery.”’ As he immediately afterward slowly glanced around, he beheld a small bunch of keys lying upon another table. The temptation was irresistible; indeed the presence of those keys was precisely what the merchant was desiring at the instant. He took them up; the very first which he applied to the writing-desk was one that fitted, and now that merchant who was usually all businesslike deliberation in his proceedings was hasty, quick, and even nervous in what he was doing. He was afraid that his wife or a servant might enter and surprise him in the midst of an action which he felt to be mean and pitiful, although perhaps not alto- gether without justification under the circumstances. He turned over the papers; he took up a pink-tinted billet, and on reading the name of Madame Angelique, a dark expression ‘came over his countenance. He perused its contents. It demanded five hundred and _ sixty-three pounds, ‘‘ as per bill delivered,” and it intimated that Mr. Isaac Shadbolt was empowered to receive the amount. This individual’s two visits to Tudor House were therefore no longer a mystery, but there were other circumstances which were very far from being satisfactory to Sir Frederick Latham. ‘‘ A year has elapsed,’’ he muttered to himself, “ since CORnnICLOOOKS (C(O)