The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 235: what you’re looking at

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THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. 221 “My poor Herbert,” said the Duchess, ap- proaching him genfly, laying her beautiful hand softly upon his arm, and looking up with compas- sionating interest into his countenance, “ you are still grieving for your Ethel? You cannot forget her ?—you never will forget her!” ‘“* Never, Mary—never,” rejoined the Duke, in a low deep voice, but with a strong emphasis. “Ah, is it not very wrong on my part to speak to you thus of one who—who can be in your eyes naught but my mistress !” ‘* Herbert,” interrupted the Duchess, '‘ we have sympathies between us which permit us to con- verse on such topics.” “Yes, Mary,” cried the Duke: “for I have seen your child,” he added, his voice instantaneously sinking to the lowest possible whisper; ‘‘ and as I gazed upon that little girl of transcending in- fantile loveliness, I thought of my own child— my poor little Alfred, who as well as your's can never know a father’s care nor bear a father’s name !” There was a pause, during which that husband and that wife—so singularly placed with regard to each other—were busy with their reflections ; and then the Duchess said in a gentle voice, “ And so you have visited Imogen Hartland ?” “Yes: and after much difficulty I succeeded in inducing her to accept the sum. As for your secret, Mary—it is as safe as if it had never been confided to any one at all!” ‘“‘A thousand thanks, Herbert, for this that you have done for me!” said the Duchess. “I now owe you a good turn. Would to heaven that I could accomplish it! I need not ask,” she said, after another brief pause, ‘‘ whether you have obtained the slightest clue to your Ethel ? I fear that you have not.” ““ No,” was the mournfully given answer. “Would to heaven that I could find her for thee !” exclaimed the Duchess. ‘“ I would do it! —QOh, I would do it! Doubt me not, I beseech on !” “« Good heavens!” cried the young Duke, “‘ how singular—how anomalous—how unnatural is our position! We, husband and wife But enough of this!’ he abruptly checked himself. “ Come, Mary,” he continued, with a forced gaiety ; “let us turn to a blither topic. We will speak of this masked ball. Of course you are going in cos- tume? May I inquire 7 “Oh, certainly!” ejaculated the Duchess, at once comprehending the nature of the question which her husband was about to put. ‘‘ You shall see me presently when I am attired in my cos- tume; and you shall tell me what you think of it. It is a page’s fancy: dress——In a word, I am going to play the part of a Page of the time of Queen Elizabeth.” ‘““If the costume be arranged, Mary, according to your usual good taste,” said the Duke, “ it will assuredly become you well.” CHAPTER XLV. THE MASQUERADE. At about half-past nine o’clock in the evening, the Duke of Ardleigh received an intimation, de livered through the medium of Lavinia, to the effect that he might repair to his wife’s dressing- room in order to see her in her fancy dress. Thither the young Duke went accordingly; and as he beheld his Duchess standing before a Psyche, which reflected her entire form, as she adjusted her plumed cap, he was struck—almost dazzled— by her appearance. He thought he had never seen her lookso handsome! Her light brown hair clustered in numerous tresses upon her shoulders of ivory whiteness; and the costume was well calculated to display the symmetry of her shape. The doublet or jacket was beautifully embroidered, and the collar was of the costliest lace which the Low Countries could supply. From the loose hanging sleeves appeared the arms so admirably modelled, so plump, so firm, and so white. The trunk-hose were gathered in a little above the knees; and thence to the feet the well-rounded proportions of the limbs were defined by the tight- fitting stockings. The dress made the Duchess look taller than she actually was; and as she turned and smiled upon her husband, the pearly teeth shining betwixt the moist coral of the lips, it seemed to him that he could have thrown him- self into her arms if she had extended them to receive him. But this feeling lasted only for a moment. He thought of Ethel—and thea the beauty of his brilliant Duchess was thrown suddenly into the shade. Nevertheless he complimented her upon the elegance of her toilet, the taste with which she had chosen it, as well as the grace with which she wore it. But he did not speak the exact truth—or at least he did not give expression to all that was floating in his mind at the moment. For it occurred to him that perhaps, after all, such a costume might sot be perfectly consistent with her rank and position; and this thought rapidly growing upon him, led him on to the reflection whether there were not even something mere- tricious in the very toilet which he had but a mi- nute back been eulogizing as so consistent with an elegant taste? But at this instant Lavinia came to announce that the carriage was in readiness: the Duchess adjusted her mask upon her counte- nance; and the Duke conducted her down stairs. Should he whisper in her ear the idea which struck him, to the effect that it was possible after all that her toilet might be open to objection? But no! it was too late—she had chosen the costume —he himself had approved of it—and she must now wear it. ‘* Besides,” he thought to himself, as he beheld the equipage whirling her away from the portico of Ardleigh House, ‘‘ one of her rank may do things which women of an inferior standing would not dare even to think of. Indeed, the very vagaries and eccentricities of great personages become fashionable and find thousands of imi- tators.” Meanwhile the ducal equipage was speeding to- wards its destination ; and in a few minutes it rolled up to the front of Todmorden House in Piccadilly. When the Duchess entered the brilliantly-lighted saloons, she found them already crowded with company exhibiting all the fantastic varieties of costume which are usually displayed on such an occasion. We need not pause for any length of time to describe a scene which in itself is not novel to our readers, and ag I oO COMO Colin