The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 378: what you’re looking at

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

Bi Of the face of this young creature, but little could be seen in the shadowy light of the even- ing hour, but that little was full of so much sweetness, and rare intelligence and beauty, that it was a delight to look apon it. A pair of the darkest of dark hazel eyes gave & sparkling intelligence to the countenance, and a stray curl or two of rich glossy hair of the same colour, which strayed down her cheek and rested upon the folds of her cloak, added fresh charms to the beauty of that creature of rare and exceeding loveliness, Tbe companion to the young girl, was a young man, rather tall and somewhat stout in ap- pearance, with hair inclining to be sandy in ita colour, and a certain floridity of complexion, which in youth was very well, but, as years in- creased, was likely to degenerate into the look of the voluptuary. The dress of the young man was in the highest style of, the then prevailing fashion, al- though careleasly put on. That style of dress, to us, would look supremely ridiculous, but when we say that the evening to which we would draw the attention of the reader was that of the 16th of July, 1651, he will be able to conceive that the autocrat of all autocrate, Fashion, was in its zenith, then insisting upon something as re dress that to our notions would be the height of absurdity, Under these circumstances, the tall, stout, young gentleman, and the petite and beautiful young lady, were not very likely to be inter- rupted in their conversation. “Well,” said the young gentleman, after a long pause, “ are you convinced ?” “ Of what?” “ That I love you, that I adore you.” “ Oh, yes.” 66 You are deh “ Why not?” “Well, I should say why not, because, knowing the trath of my great affection for you, it is very painful for me to think that, for a moment, you ever think of doubting it. Now, indeed, I feel very happy.” “*T am glad to hear it,” said the young lady, with a alight tone of badinage, “ because, under such circumstances, I have the less hesitation in bidding you good evening.” “Oh, no, no. Why would you leave me to despair ?” To despair ?” ‘* Yes, the greatest despair.” “Why, I thought you told me just now, that you were happy indeed.” *‘ Yes, and so I am when you are here,” “‘ And so you would have me stay ?” “ Ob, yes, in truth, I would.” “ How long ?”’ This question seemed rather to puzzle the gentleman, for he repeated the words twice or tarice without being able to append anything to em, ‘* Ah |” said the lady, “ I see you never thought of my happiness at all in the matter. So long as you felt supremely ha ou were quite contented. Is ‘it not so?” PPy) i “ Alas! love is ever selfish.” “‘ Granted : and so I now leave you, because I love myself.” Oye THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. PV A% \ 357 ’ “ No—no, I implore you to stay. Beautiful and mysterious being, I beg that you will not leave me, Tell me at least who and what you are, and the cause of the mysterious conduct that I saw take place for four nights in suc- cession in this park? Do not leave me to all the pangs of conjecture.” ‘‘ Mysterious conduct, sir ! do you allude ?”’ “Ah! now you are angry with me.” ‘*No, not if you are candid,” “Then I will tell you all I know, which is, that about this time you came and seated your- self on a particular seat in the grand prome- nade, not far from this spot, and that after a time a man came and said a few wo aftér which you would rise and leave the , taki your route out of it by Spring Garddfis. Is n all that true?” é6 It is,” “Well, then, last evening I followed you, and spoke to you, but you repulsed me. Love, however—for, indeed, I do love you-—got the better of all such feelings, and again I spoke to you to-night. You answer me, and afe not s0 cruel, at is all I know.” ‘Tt is all, sir, you should seek to know.” Nay, do not say that.” “ Hold, sir ; you are a gentleman,” 6 I ho . “Well, you love me, What are your inten- tions ?” “ My—my—intentions. Oh! I—that is—my intentions ?” Yes, sir, your intentions,” “ Strictly honourable,” ‘Will you marry me?!” The gentleman was rather startled at this abrupt question, and he stammered out some- thing in reply that was certainly not very intel- ligible, and then the young girl gathered her cloak more about her, and said with a voice that seemed struggling with wounded pride— ‘ Spare, yourself, further speech, sir, I know you. Farewell !” So saying, she disengaged her hand the gen- tleman had got hold of, and darted from hi along the grand promenade. For a few moments he stood ina state of consternation, and then he darted after her, and quickly overtook her, sayin ‘Tf you do know me, assure me of that fact, by telling me who I am ?” “Tt matters not who you are, sir. It is suffi- cient that I know now what you are, and that is a libertine. Leave me, sir, and never speak to me again.” As she said this, she turned and looked at him, and suffered the cloak to fall away so far from before her face that he had by the light of one of the lamps in the promenade a good view of it, ’ It was either a slight action, accidental or otherwise, upon the part of the young Bir! as she put up her hand to dash the dancing ringlets of her hair from before her eyes, and it was some sudden puff of the gentle air that was singing through the branches of the trees, but the little light hat she wore fell back from her head, and only hung round her neck by the strings, 20 that it may be said that the gentle- man hada good view of the young creature’s To what, pray, GOVE OOO eS \ \ %, ‘ (CC CO