Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

€0 AGNES; OL, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. —_—* - “ Hush, for heaven’s sake!” interrupted Mrs. | cruelly distressed to think that I could have been De Vere: “the servants will overhear you!—my son will be here in a moment!” “And who cares about your servants or your son?” cried the insolent woman. “If I thought fit, and had time, I would walk in and use the house as if it was my own——” “ Never!” ejaculated Mrs. De Vere, now worked up toa pitch bordering upon frenzy. ‘ Why do you torment methus? Have I not dealt liberally towards you?” “Yes—but the last time I was here you dared to threaten me,” replied Mrs. Chicklade, who took a malignant pleasure in torturing the poor lady. “Tt is all very well for you to give yourself airs: but remember !’’—and here she added some words in a very low voice and with a fiend-like sardonism of countenance. Mrs. De Vere, already very pale, now became absolutely ghastly; and she staggered back a pace or two, so that it was only by a sudden effort she could prevent herself from falling. Mrs. Chick- lade gave utterance to a malignant laugh; and as if satisfied with the amount of pain that she had inflicted, she rapidly continued her way. Mrs. De Vere, without again glancing along the road in search of her son, retreated into the parlour; and sinking upon the sofa, gave way to her lamenta- tions. In the bitterness of her grief she was so completely off her guard that she forgot her moans and sobbings and her impassioned ejaculations might be overheard by the cook or housemaid, if either happened to be nigh: but fortunately for her they were both beyond earshot at the time. “ Wretched, infamous woman!” ejaculated Mrs. De Vere; “evil genius that has crossed my path! fatal spectre that seems doomed to haunt me! Ob, if ever there were a moment when I felt inclined to do some desperate deed to rid myself for ever of your persecutions—it is now!” ‘* For God’s sake, my dear mother, what is the matter?” asked Charles, as he suddenly rushed into the room. “But I need scarcely inquire! That hag has been here again! I met her—I knew her despite her tawdry finery! Methought that she leered impudently upon me! Oh, my dear mother! there is some mystery attached to this wretch !—it is not through mere charity that you have assisted her—you must know, as well as I now do, that she is no ceserving object for such bounty !—and yet she comes to you!” “It is nothing, my dear boy——-she did not come to me—I declare positively she did not!” exclaimed Mrs. De Vere, speaking vehemently. “T was thinking of other things ~ “Pardon me, my dear mother!’ interrupted Charles, deeply distressed: “but this is evasion on your part—though doubtless for a kind purpose. My ear caught the words which you were utter- ing: they were words of terrible import——and, Oh, my dear mother! it could have been no ordi- nary provoeation that evoked such language from the lips of one so good, so kind, so amiable as you are !” ** My cear boy,” answered Mrs. De Vere, even more distressed than her son, and terribly bewil- dered what reply to give,—“ there are dark mo- ments that come over me—and in those moods I scarcely know what I say! Words over which I have no control escape my lips—and then I am so unguarded—so foolish !” “Well, my dear mother,” interrupted Charles, unwilling to inflict additional anguish on his bes loved parent, though he was very far from satis- fied with the excuses which she had just made,— ‘let us say no more upon the subject.” “No, not another word!” cried Mrs. De Vere, as if immensely relieved by what her son had just said. ‘The dark mood has passed now—I am once again contented—tranquillized—happy—for youare with me! You see that I am all ready to accompany you in the pleasant walk which we promised ourselves for this afternoon,—and now, my dearest Charles, let me not behold a shade upon your countenance—for you shall see none on mine !” “ Ob, I would do anything to render you happy, my dear mother!” exclaimed young De Vere, affectionately embracing his parent. “Come, let us sally forth,’ he added, assuming a cheerful tone: “ the weather is beautiful—it is the delicious autumn season of the year—and the fresh air will do you good.” The mother and son accordingly walked forth together,—not repairing towards the Regent’s Park, which was their usual lounge—but proceed- ing in the contrary direction, so as to get as much as possible into the most secluded spots. We must now return to Miss Neale—who, as we have stated, took her departure from Sidney Villa before Winifred Barrington had finished the conversation in which Rachel was detaining her in the parlour while Cicely had been engaged with the two young ladies in the drawing-room. Mrs. Timperley had brought Miss Neale in her carriage as far as the Zoological Gardens in the Regent's Park—which the lawyer’s wife, with a lady-friend, had gone to visit. Cicely was to rejoin Mrs. Tim- perley there: but on issuing forth from Sidney Villa, she found that she had still a good hour te dispose of. Indeed she had mistaken the time— or else she would have prolonged her call upon the two cousins. Having certain affairs occupying her mind, Cicely was in no mood to roam about with two elderly ladies, looking at wild beasts, monkeys, reptiles, and birds: she would rather be alone with her own thoughts. She therefore de- cided upon rambling a little while in the neigh- bourhood where she now found herself; and per- haps to this conclusion she was somewhat impelled by the hope of falling in with the individual whose image was uppermost in her mind—the one concerning whom she had received certain infor- mation from Mrs. Chicklade, and relative te whom likewise she had endeavoured to obtain intelli- gence at Sidney Villa. Cicely had not gone very far ere she caught a glimpse of a female figure which she thought was familiar to her; still she could scarcely believe that the old harridan had gone to such an out- rageous length as to deck herself with a large straw hat and long streaming ribbons. But ina few moments Miss Neale acquired the certainty that it was indeed none other than Mrs. Chick- lade; and an expression of bitter annoyance swept over the countenance of the young lady as she murmured to herself, “ The old wretch is deter- mined to interfere in my affairs! For what other purpose could she possibly be here?” COMmmiclooOolk<s