The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 207: what you’re looking at

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

THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. i : | i : i alt ap bi : | Hk x a “Not a word in reference to gratitude!” inter- “rupted the Duke: “ the obligation. is still from us to you. Farewell, Miss Hartland :”—and pressing her hand for a moment, he disappeared from her presence, having bestowed another look upon the child. The bank-notes lay upon the table; and as Imogen counted them over, she found that they precisely made up the sum of twenty thousand pounds. Twenty thousand pounds in the humble abode of an actress! twenty thousand pounds be- neath that roof! What could she mean to do with the money ? Let us now shift the scene of our story to an- other part of London; and we must therefore direct the attention of our readers to Hatton Garden. There, in that room which he called his office, but which Mrs. Casey would always persist in denominating a study, sat Mr. Michael Casey. No. 25.—Tue Youne DucuHEss. 193 He was in his dressing-gown and slippers; and he was pacing to and fro with uneven steps, the infirmity of his limbs being enhanced by the agitation which influenced him. A newspaper lay upon the table; anda paragraph might be’ seen with a heading indicative of the sudden death of Sir Abel Kingston in Newgate. Presently the door opened, and Sylvester made his appearance. ‘Well, what news ?” asked the father. “ But of course it is only too true?—the fellow is dead, and it little matters to me whether he took poison, or died of disease of the heart, as the supposition is there :’—and he pointed to the newspaper. “Well, I’m blowed if it isn’t a pretty caper!” said the son. ‘Only think of the chap taking it into his head to pop off just at the moment when “Ah! just at the moment,” interjected Mr. rr ey nt Pg ESTER ar nenscnneenenemta, COMO oO Colin