The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

MONSIEUR VOLNEY od ceed to Italy, 1 know not whether with any settled purpose, or whether he fixed at random upon that transalpine country, all places in the world being equally the same to him in the desolated condition of his heart. We traversed the Alps by easy stages, for at every halting-place it appears that my poor father went wandering out amidst those dangerous glacier regions, and that sometimes his rambles were so pro- tracted it was feared that he was lost. Marguerite well re- members that journey; she spoke of it last evening in vivid language. She recollects how we were nearly lost on the heights of Mount St. Bernard, and how the dogs of the hospice were the instruments of our salvation. She likewise bears in mind how we tarried several days at that hospice, and in what constant terror she was sustained by the protracted absences of my father amidst those glacier regions so sublime, so terrible. We passed on into Italy; but instead of tarrying there, as it first of all appeared to be my father’s intention, he hurried on the journey to Leg- horn. There we took ship for Marseilles, and from Mar- seilles we travelled straight back to the mansion near Fon- tainebleau. There my father settled down again, after an absence of about four months, and I was too young at the time to receive any lasting impressions of the journey. Never, my dear Zoe, until last night was I aware that these eyes of mine had gazed upon the Alps, or that I had ever passed beyond the frontier of France. I must observe that in con- sequence of the scandal excited by the Viscount Delorme’s infamy in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau, his respec- table relative the marchioness quitted her mansion, taking the boy Alfred with her, and she proceeded to another estate which she had in the western part of France. Years then passed away.” “Years passed away,” said Zoe, mournfully and me- chanically repeating Clarine’s words, ‘‘ and you, my sweet friend, were brought up in ignorance of all that had taken place? ”’ “Yes,” responded the young lady, ‘‘ in total ignorance. Never was the veil lifted from my eyes until last night. Oh, J am no longer at a loss to comprehend wherefore my father was so impatient, or else so afflicted, whenever in the inno- cence of girlhood I spoke of my mother. Alas, what pangs must I have excited in his breast, and Heaven knows how CoOnniclooolkxs (C(O)