The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

a a 2 TIE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. — a green vehetian blind, or ja/ousie, lowered com- pletely down inside the open window, shut out from the view the dingy brick buildings on the opposite side of the street. There was a good looking-giass over the mantel, which likewise dis- played some pretty china ornaments. On a side table stood a work-box and a writing-desk, and there were some twenty or thirty volumes on a shelf ina recess. A lithograph portrait of a beau- tiful female in a strange fantastic dress, was sus- pended to the wall facing the mirror: and the original of that portrait was now reclining on the sofa, listlessly following with her eyes the move- ments of a little girl of about four years old who was playing about the room. Fantastic indeed was the dress of that female. A small Greek cap, with a couple of pheasant’s feathers, rested with an air of unstudied coquet- tishness upon a head of faultless formation. The features were purely Grecian: the complexion was beautifully clear and transparent; and though the cheeks were pale, yet they exhibited that freshness of the skin which is characteristic of health. Hereyes, of a beautiful blue, had a look which was alike vivacious and languishing; and her hair, of a rich dark brown, was lustrous with its own natural gloss. Mer lips—the upper one being fuller than the lower—had an expression half smiling, and half serious, which corresponded with that of the eyes, and thus confirmed the general aspect of this beautiful countenance. She was a little above the middle height, but seemed taller than she really was because her figure was so striking and brilliant. With a cer- tain robustness of limbs, all her proportions were nevertheless adjusted to the most perfect sym- metry, tapering at the extremities into beautifully formed hands and elegantly shaped feet. Heyr’s was a figure which conveyed the impression of strength blended with agility—a rounded fulness of the contours sufficiently developed for personal beauty, but not to be inconsistent with the lithe- ness and flexibility of the entire form. And now, to revert to her costume, we must proceed to observe that a light under-garment, with a very short skirt, was confined at the waist by a crimson sash, or rather folded scarf, after the oriental fashion. The upper garment consist- ing of a purple velvet jacket made to button over the bosom at will, but now left open. The jacket itself was sleeveless; but the light under- garment before mentioned had short sleeves reach- . ing not so far as the elbow; and thus the white well-modelled arms were left almost completcly bare. She wore breeches made to fit loosely, and fastened just below the knees, with long pendant ribbons. Flesh-coloured silk stockings made the lower part of the leg seem bare down to the well- made and tight-fitting cloth boots, which with- out the slightest seam or wrinkle adjusted them- selves each to the precise shape of the rounded ankle and the long narrow foot. Bracelets were upon the wrists, and there were rings to ornament the small, flexible, exquisitely chiselled ears: but truth compels us to add that all the jewellery thus displayed by the young female would not have amounted to the value of mamay pounds sterling. Who was she? We have already said that her portrait was suspended in the room; and beneath it appeared the name of MADEMOISELLLE IMOGENE, gd ; ee \ # am * © & But there were two or three notes lying upon the table; and one was addressed to Mademoiselle Imogen—the final e, be it observed, being omitted. The other letters were addressed to plain Miss Hartland; and as the young female had opened and read all these tetters when they arrived, we naturally infer that she was Miss Hartland in “private life, but Mademoiselle Imogene in some public capacity. In respect to her age, it would not have been very easy for even the shrewdest observer to fix it with any degree of precision; for while the well-developed form and matured contours seemed on the one hand to indicate the ripe womanhood of three or four and twenty, yet on the other hand the delicacy of the features and the air of youthful freshness that invested her would engender the surmise that her age could barely exceed twenty. Nothing could transcend the infantile loveliness of the little girl who was playing about the room. he was, as we have already said, about four years old; and a luxuriant profusion of soft and fine flaxen curls set off a countenance the complexion of which was formed of milk and roses. The eyes were of a clear azure; and the little lips, thin and delicately cut, were as vivid in theit hue as wet coral. The child was dressed with the utmost taste and neatness,—her entire appearance indicating that she was the object of the mest scrupulous care. The portrait to which we have before alluded, | represented Mademoiselle Imogene in precisely the saine dress which we have described: but it gave her the air of a Greek Bacchanal at a masquerade, placed in 9 lounging position against a seat in the box of a theatre, and smoking a cigarette. On the othcr hand, at the moment when we introduce her to our readers, she is half reclining upon a sofa in a small but neatly-furnished room ; and she has no cigarette in her hand. Her eyes are listlessly following the movements of the child: | but her countenance grows gradually more and more serious, the half-smile fading away from her lips. She becomes completely absorbed in thought ; and her eyelids droop—not because drowsiness is coming over them, but because all her attention being now concentrated inwards, is shutting out from itself as it were every external object. Thus some minutes passed: and then all of a sudden a strange light flashed in the deep blue eyes under the half-closed lids ; and with a quick spasmodic start, she flung her looks upon the child, muttering, ‘* Little wretch! you are the cause of | all I suffer !” The child did not catch the sense of the words —she only heard their sound; and she was at the same time frightened by the sudden start which the female gave. Thinking therefore that she had in some way provoked her anger, the child threw down her doll and burst into tears. ‘Dear, dear little thing !” cried Mademoiselle Imogene: and then this strange creature of sud- den impulses caught the child up in her arms and pressed it to her bosom. ‘‘ Don’t cry, my love! for heaven’s sake don’t cry! I was not angry with you! Ob, pray don’t cry—dear, dear little Annie!” The child went on sobbing as if its little heart would break ; and nothing could exceed the pain which Mademoiselle Imogene evidently expe- rienced while endeavouring to soothe that grief. Comnicloocks Rs LS TL GS A Pn cS pp +, ae Colin