The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 230: what you’re looking at

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

rl er a ee C—O a {UE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. CHAPTER XLIV. THE CHAT IN THE PARK. Tu scene again shifts to Thornbury, in Bucking- hamshire, It was about the hour of noon; and on a bench beneath a tree in the park, two persons were seated. One was a well-dressed, good-look- ing man, whose age might be about thirty, and who had the air of an upper servant. His com- panion was a female, within a year or so of: the same age: she was dressed with the utmost neat- ness, and not without a certain pretension to ele- gance. She possessed a handsome face, and her figure was symmetrically proportioned. To be brief, this female whom we are describing was. Miss Lavinia Glover, principal lady’s-maid to her. Grace the Duchess of Ardleigh; and her compa- nion was a certain Edmund Vaughan, valet to the ‘Count de Mandeville. The day was very sultry; and Lavinia had taken off her bonnet, which she held dangling by the ribbons beneath the grateful shade of that old trec, the trunk of which was of a size which indi-, cated the growth of centuries. It was a secluded part of the grounds which the valet and the lady’s- maid had thus sought: it was at a distance of three-quarters of a mile from the mansion itself ; and it was moreover evident from their looks that they had wandered thither in order that they “might converse in perfect freedom from all con- straint. ‘‘This is pleasant,” said the valet, looking up at the wide umbrageous3 boughs, as he took off his hat and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. | “JT don’t think a cigar would come amiss. You don’t object, my dear Lavinia, I know :”—and pulling forth his case, he lighted a cigar accord- ingly. “So you say that your mistress ques- tioned you the other evening ?” “Yes. It was after her Grace returned from Lady Todmorden’s party,” replied Lavinia, ‘‘ nearly a week ago.” : ‘And what was it that she said?” asked Ed- mund Vaughan. ‘Tell me exactly, Lavinia, there’s a dear creature.” “First of all her Grace threw herself into an arm-chair in her boudoir,” said Lavinia: ‘ then she looked. at me very hard—and I feared there was something wrong, though I kept my counte- nance admirably.” “Ah, that was right!” exclaimed the valet. “But you and I, Lavinia, are rather too expe- rienced to lose our countenance in ahurry. We are people of the world: we understand how to hide our emotions as well as our betters. Ha! ha! our masters and mistresses think, forsooth ! that we shall not profit by the examples which they themselves set us! But go on, Lavinia. You were telling me that the Duchess looked at you very hard _ ‘Yes, for upwards of a minute,” rejoined the lady’s-maid; ‘‘ and then she said in an abrupt sort of way, as if she thought that she would take me aback if I was really guilty,—she said, ‘Is it possible, Lavinia, that you have gone and whis- pered anything about me to a living soul?’ ” ‘“‘ And what did you do?” asked Edmund. “Dor” eried Lavinia. “I fired up at once. nO, LS SR ee NS OW me re. First of all I pretended to be indignant—then 1 showed that I was hurt , ; ‘Capital, my dear! capital!’ exclaimed the valet. ‘‘ Nothing better than pretending to be wounded in the feelings. It seems to show de- votedness.” ‘Well, the Duchess was convinced ; and when she had begged my pardon—which she did do —_——.”? “To be sure,” said Edmund, laughing: “ that was quite right. Well, what followed ?” ‘‘ She said it was very extraordinary—she had fallen in with some one who had spoken to her about matters which she thought were involved in the profoundest secrecy—but she did not enter into any further details, and of course I did not like to question her.” “ But at all events you are‘sure,” said the valet, “that the Duchess does not now entertain the slightest suspicion that you have betrayed her ?” ‘‘ T am convinced she does not,” answered La- vinia. “* Well, my dear,” pursued the valet, “is there anything more that you can tell me ?” ‘Nothing nothing, at least, that I remem- ber,” responded the lady’s-maid in a musing tone. “Let me see? I told you about the tank of water, and how that wretched man Sir Abel King- ston narrowly escaped. “A good ducking? Yes, yes—yon told me all about that. And likewise,” continued Edmund Vaughan, “ about her Grace’s trip in male apparel —and how nicely she baffled the scheme of the fellow Gaffne z “‘ And did your master make use of all this in- formation, think you?” inquired Lavinia. ‘“*T believe so. At all ‘events I recapitulated to the Count everything you told me; and he is not the man to fail in giving the fullest effect to whatsoever information may suit his purposes.” ‘Of course, Edmund,” said Lavinia, “one must look after one’s own interests in this world; and therefore, ‘though I am really sorry to betray the poor Duche:s — who is very kind and good to me ” ‘Now no scruples, my dear Lavinia—and no nonsensical punctilios ?” interrupted Vaughan. ‘‘No harm will happen to the Duchess: but, on the contrary ” “On the contrary 2” said Lavinia, inquir- ingly. ‘* Why, yes,” rejoined the valet: “ she will get a new lover instead of the one she has lost.” “Sir Abel Kingston was never her lover in reality,” said Lavinia: ‘I mean that she never went to the extreme. She was foolish, but timid and hesitating. In fact, I suppose she dreaded to commit herself irreparably ” ‘Depend upon it,” interjected Vaughan, ‘“ she will not play the coquette long with the Count. He is a man who conquers off-hand.” ‘“‘And now do tell me, Edmund,—who js this Count Mandeville?” asked Lavinia. “Why, Count Mandeville?” and the valet laughed slyly. ““T dare say he is, if he choose to call him- self so,” said Lavinia: ‘but you have already suffered me to understand he is a mere ad- venturer. Now you ought to tell me every- thing ; and if you do not,” she added, pout- ing her lips, “ I will not tell you another thing A re at rte oO Connicloooks Colin