The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 189: what you’re looking at

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

» meen heme enema nema er tern tthe ematical TIIE YOUNG DUCIIESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. . 175 _ “T really cannot altogether understand you, Mrs. Trevor,” said the Count. “It struck me that only a few moments ago you were inclined to throw a veil of doubt and mystery around your acquaintance with her who once bore the name of Malcolm.” “Let me ask, my lotd, why you invariably speak of her in this manner?” __ “T told you just now that I did not know what name she now bears. How, then, am I to speak of her otherwise than I do ?” ‘* But—but, my lord,” continued Ethel, having a thousand conflicting ideas in her brain, but | scarcely knowing how to. give expression to them, “* there is a superciliousness—a contemptuousness in your tone and manner, when referring to that lady —” “ Ah, then,” said the Count drily—and he fixed a peculiar look upon Ethel—“ you must know | very little indeed of that person if you think that I ought to speak of her in other or more honour- able ferms.” Ethel coloured and looked confused, as she mur- mured to herself, “Good heavens! can he know Lady Langport’s secret ?” ‘Ah !” said the Count, who caught those evi- dences of emotion; ‘you do know something, then, concerning the object of our discourse—and you are wot surprised that I should speak of her in terms of contempt and disgust—aye, almost with aversion. Pray might I ask how long you have known her ?” ‘But a very, very short time,” answered Ethel, trembling with emotion,—“ only little more than a fortnight.” “Ah! then perhaps you do not know how long she has been in England ?” said the Count. ‘Really, my lord,” cried Ethel, frightened, “I ought to ask why you put all these questions ? She could have done you no harm ” ‘‘ In one word, Mrs. Trevor,” interrupted Olo- netz, ‘‘ will you tell me where she lives, or where I may find her, and our interview need not last another minute. I shall thank you. My car- riage—which I have ordered to wait on purpose —shall take you whithersoever you think fit ; and if you would permit me—an old man—old enough to be your grandfather—to. offer you this testi- monial of gratitude, I shall still consider myself your debtor. Now then, the address of that woman—where is it ?”—and as he put this ques- tion, the Count drew a splendid diamond ring from his finger. “Good heavens!” ejaculated Ethel, again start- ing up from the seat which she had a few minutes back resumed, “do you think me capable, my lord, of betraying one who, no matter what she may be, has demonstrated naught but kindness towards myself? For what do you take me ?— a traitoress—a spy? Oh! are you still bent upon pursuing that unfortunate lady with your dark mysterious vengeance? But, remember, my lord this is London—it is not Constantinople! You may have your steam-ship tmoored in the Thames —hut lift your finger, if you dare, to carry off an English subject! Ah, I told you that your name was not unknown to me!—and now you comprehend in what sense I became acquainted with it ?” ‘‘ By heaven, this is more and more bewilder- ing!” exclaimed Olonetz, who, though ordinarily the calmest and most phlegmatic diplomatist in the world, now stamped his foot with veritable |tage and impatience. ‘‘ When I just now said that my name must be known to you, it was not | in reference to.that subject ; for how in the name of | heaven this affair which you have just mentioned, ‘ever transpired to Miss Malcolm’s knowledge, I cannot guess. But let it pass. It is simply ridicu- lous to suppose that here in England I could think of attempting a mischief to one who may possibly ' claim the tights of a British subject. No! And here again 1 am perplexed and bewildered ; for ‘you seem to know some things and to be entirely ignorant of others, as if it were only by the veriest fits and starts that she—call her what you will—could have ever given you any insight into her antecedents. Now the fact is, it may be to her interest to communicate with me. I have certain proposals to make; and if you do not choose to tell me where she lives or where I may find her, at least tell her that Count Olonetz, who arrived three days ago in London, and who has seen her, as she knows——” Seen her?” echoed Ethel. | The Count made a gesture of disgust and im- patience as he rose from his seat, adding coldly,: ‘Yes, madam—after all I am deceived in you ! You are trifling with me—you are playing with evasions and dissimulations—heaven only knows for what purpose!—and in the same unaccount- able manner you are even going’ so far as to strive to make me doubt the evidence of my own senses !” Again Ethel looked bewildered: she pressed her hand to her brow; for strange thoughts were again creeping into her brain—strange mysterious ideas which were growing a trifle stronger than at first, though still vague and indefinite. “Madam,” cried the Count, with a certain de- gree of eagerness, as if snatching at a thought which had just occurred to him—‘ more than once during this interview has it struck me that we were playing at cross purposes—of course un- intentionally and ignorantly,—that we were pursu- ing lines of thought which though they sometimes seemed to meet and combine, were in reality different and separate; and nothing could afford me greater pleasure than to be enabled to recall the harsh expressions to which I just now gave utterance concerning you.” “‘ Ah, my lord,” said Ethel, with tears in her eyes, “if you only knew how incapable 1 am of prevarication and duplicity, you would indeed give me credit for the most genuine sincerity in the present case !” ‘By heaven, it must be so!” said Olonetz em- phatically : then, as he regarded that beautiful face with earnest interest, and looked into the depths of those hazel eyes, so soft and candid in their expression—as he regarded the exquisitely cut lips on which it seemed impossible that guile could ever linger—he went on fo say, “ For forty~ five years have I been in the schools of diplomacy and it has been my business to look deep down into the human heart through the mirror of the countenance. If ever the hand of an angel traced the purest thoughts upon a mortal brow, it is here! itis here!” — The stern severe diplomatist was almost affected by the direction which his thoughts were thus taking, as he continued to gaze upon that beauti- YN Wn) COMO Colin