The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 214: what you’re looking at

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

— 200 Mildred reflected; and then she said, “I donot know :”—and still her look was bewildered. ‘‘The larger portrait,” resumed Ethel, ‘was painted when you were nineteen years of age, and the name of Mildred was underneath.” “True. But where could you have seen that portrait ?” ‘In an Album. The very same Album where it was placed at the time.” ‘But that was in St. Petersburgh!” cried Mil- dred. “YT know it,” rejoined Ethel. ‘But now the Album is in England. It has been well taken care of.” “Jt belonged to my mother,” said Mildred. ‘Is it possible that she had any relations into whose possession it could have found its way? or did any friends take charge of it ?” ‘‘Tt is in the possession of that very same Lady Langport of whom I spoke to you just now.” | ““And whom you say that I resemble?” inter- jected Mildred. “Yes,” replied Ethel. Well, madam—and to what is all this to lead?” asked Mildred, after a pause. “To a revelation, as you yourself just now pre- ‘saged.” “Quick, quick ! what is this revelation ?” ex- claimed Mildred. ‘' Who is Lady Langport ? why has she got the Album ? how is it that I re- semble her so much? and how came you to know any particulars relative to my history.?” ‘Let us go back to the year 1825,” said Ethel, fixing a significant look upon her companion, “The year 1825 ?” “Yes. Let us look to the accident upon the Neva.” “Good God! what do you mean ?” cried Mil- dred. “ Your mother ‘‘Ah, yes! my mother perished on that occa- sion. Is it only this that you are going to tell me? Is this the wonderful revelation,” pursued Mildred, contemptuously, ‘‘ for which you have been preparing my mind with so much pains and trouble? I knew it long ago. I read in a news- paper—yes, in the midst of the wilds of Siberia I read her name in the list of those who perished on that unfortunate occasion. So you see, Mrs. Trevor, that you have been beating about the bush to no purpose after all.” There seemed to be a certain callousness—an almost heartless indifference in the manner in which Mildred thus alluded to her mother; and Ethel was shocked and wounded at this absence of feeling on Mildred’s part. “So you see,” resumed the latter, “ that if you have come for no other purpose than to tell me of my mother’s death, you might just as well have stopped away. It would have ‘becn different, perhaps,” continued Mildred, with a light laugh and in a tone of levity, “if you had come for the purpose of telling me that my mother'is ~ot dead ” —that she did not go down. with the rest into the depths of the Neva—and that the newspapers were not right in giving her name among the lost.” Ethel rose up from her seat with a solemn look, as in a kindred tone she said, ‘“ And it is to tell you all this that, J am here!” Mildred looked as if she were netrified with wonderment. o — THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. “Yes,” continued Ethel, “ such is the purpose for which I am here! Your mother did not perish by the breaking of the ice on the Neva! She is alive—she yearns to fold you in her arms She is that Lady Langport of whom I have spoken !” Mildred threw herself back in her chair gasping for breath; and then as a sudden idea seemed to strike her, she leant forward, looked with a strange earnestness in Ethel’s face, and said with a peculiar tone, “So you wish me to go with you to my mother’s ?” ‘* Yes,” replied Ethel. “ And is it out of London ?” ‘‘ Only a few miles.” ‘‘ Ah !—and I suppose that you have got a car- riage in readiness ?” ‘* Yes—it is close by. Come quick!” “Thank you,” said Mildred, in a strange— almost brutal tone: ‘‘ I would rather not. And you, madam—the sooner you take yourself off from my apartments and get to your carriage the better !” Ethel was confounded. She was transfixed to the spot—and she gazed on Mildred as if utterly ‘at a loss to persuade herself that she could have heard aright or that such language had come from that female’s lips. Ah!” cried Mildred, with a mocking laugh: “so you find yourself defeated—your plot has - exploded—the trick has proved too grossly trans- parent for me to be deceived by it !” _ “Trick !? murmured Ethel: “ trick!” she re- peated—and then she burst into tears. “Will you depart ?”—and Mildred stamped her foot with rage. -“ Good heavens! for what do you take me?” cried Ethel, half in indignation and half in afilic- tion. “For what you are !—a base, treacherous, ac- complice of the Russians !—the creature of Olonetz —a disgrace to the female sex !—one who beneath a lovely face conceals the blackest heart !”” “‘T know how severely you have suffered,” said Ethel, ‘‘and therefore 1 can understand how you have become suspicious—and I can forgive you for settling your suspicions upon me. Listen, I entreat! Your mother lives—she married Lord Langport—she is now a widow. She is rich! Her abode is at Hendon, a few miles from London. Your portrait is preserved in her Album. Until yesterday she thought that you were dead—as you have hitherto believed that she had perished!” Mildred’s countenance gradually lost its ex- pression of fierce disdainful ire: she reflected— and then she abruptly said, ‘‘ But tell me how you found out my address ?” “Tf I answer the question, all your suspicions would revive again.” ‘Depart, madam! depart !” interrupted Mildred. ‘or your own sake, I conjure you to go—or else TI shall be inclined to.do you a mischief! I can be violent, I do assure you!”. “I must dare your violence,” said Ethel—“ but only in the hope of assuaging it. Again I ask you, to listen. , Your mother Lady Langport has - seen the Russian Ambassador: 1 also have seen -him: he is anxious that you should be restored to your mother’s arms, so that in the enjoyment of a comfortable home and of all the luxuries wherewith wealth can ‘surround you, you may YN Wn) COMO Colin