The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

FATHER AND DAUGHTER rf and conceit engendered this belief in a moment, and in other respects it was certainly natural enough, when he found her so far from her native place, — the more es- pecially as it never struck De Margaux that her father might have lost his situation through his daughter’s impru- dence. He did not, however, immediately advance toward her; he stood still for a few moments to see if she recognized him. But after simply glancing at De Margaux, Finette averted her eyes; she had not the remotest suspicion that in the comparatively miserable object before her she be- held the handsome, elegant-mannered, fascinating indi- vidual who for several hours had obtained over her heart a degree of influence such as in ordinary cases an acquaint- ance of months and years could scarcely have engendered. De Margaux looked around; Finette was evidently alone. She had relapsed into her gloomy reverie, she was apparently in a distressed state of mind. De Margaux therefore felt convinced that she was a wanderer, either voluntary or outcast, from the paternal home, and touched by her exceeding beauty, of which he had retained a vivid impression, though not one particle of real love did he experience for her, he longed to possess her as a mistress. Approaching her, he said, in the most harmonious accents of his naturally fine voice, ‘‘ Finette, do you not know me? ”’ For an instant the young damsel started as if suddenly stung by a serpent lurking amidst the grass whereon she sat, and her dark eyes swept their looks hastily over De Margaux’s form. At the same time an expression, which appeared to be that of terror, flitted across her features, but it was instantaneously succeeded by a smile, and springing up from her seat, she ejaculated, with an air of mingled astonishment and joy, ‘‘ Good heavens, sir, is it you?” “Yes, dearest Finette,’’ responded De Margaux, ‘“‘ it is [, who have never ceased to love you,”’ and he threw his arm around her waist. “Oh, if this were true!’’ she ejaculated, quickly dis- engaging herself, and springing back a pace or two as if for the purpose of studying his countenance well, that she might know whether she dared confide in him. “Yes, Finette, it is true,’ exclaimed De Margaux. “Tell me, does the assurance give you pleasure? Have you been looking for me?” GomiilGaooks (S©)