The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 320: what you’re looking at

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

896 THE YOUNG a DUCHESS, OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. ‘“‘ At half-past eleven precisely. It is now ten o'clock,” continued Ponchard, referring to his watch. ‘There is a good hour to spare. I tell you what—I think I had better see Hester. We will drink a bottle of wine together; and in any case it can dono harm. The girl was somewhat suspicious the night before last—or if not sus- picious, she was jealous at being excluded from all confidence in the secrets which I had with you; and so it will be as well to appease and cajole. her.” “ All right,” said Mrs. Grills down, and send you in the wine. we've business to attend to.” The husband and wife quitted the parlour; and: in a few minutes Hester Sergeant made her ap- pearance, bearing a little tray on which were the bottle of wine and glasses, “Well, Hester my dear,” said Ponchard, with his usual air of offhand affability mingled with: a. patronising kindness towards the girl, ‘‘ how are you now? I was-sorry to hear you were not well —you'had a headache “Oh, that was through staying in-doors ‘so; much,” replied Hester, in whose manner there’ was naught to excite—or rather, we should sa to strengthen any suspicion which the French- - man’s mind might have formed concerning her. ‘‘T go out so seldom; and when I do, it is only into the close streets, and not into the open country. Oh, how I long to get into the green | fields !—how 1 should like to plunge into the depths of a wood and inhale the purity of its atmosphere ! What freshness, too, for the -eyes: to enjoy in gazing upon its verdure, as a change: from this wilderness of ‘brick and mortar!” “Why, on my soul, Hester, you are becoming | quite poetical !” exclaimed Ponchard, laughing, : while in reality he surveyed the girl with the most ‘ scrutinizing attention. ‘“‘Oh, these humours ‘come over one at times,” she said, suddenly adopting an air of abandoned. and reckless indifference. ‘I know you think I- am a fool to give way to such silly dreams. And’ so Tam. Come, let us drink!” “‘ By the bye, do you like wine ?” .added Pon- chard, as he filled the glasses. ‘What was it that Mrs. Grills told me? Ah, I recollect! She said that she was afraid you were out of sorts, as you refused the drop of brandy she offered you.” It struck Ponchard, as he stole a scrutinizing glance at the girl’s countenance while affecting to be busy in pouring out the wine, that her dark eyes were riveted on him at the time with a peculiar expression : but if it were so, their look changed so | rapidly that the next moment he could not be cer- tain that it was as he had fancied. ‘* And so you would like to go into the country Hester?” he said. ‘How do you mean? For a holiday—or for ever ?”—and then the girl raised the wine to her lips. Nay, I ought rather to ask which you mean ?” said Ponchard, smiling. ‘ Would you like to leave for ever this wilderness of brick and mortar, as you call it ?” “Yes—my God! for ever!—for ever!” an- swered the girl, with a strange emphasis: then ‘suddenly bursting out into a hollow laugh, she cried with flippant levity, “ But it is ridiculous in me to talk thus! I have no chance of leaving “T will call her Come, Grills: this earthly pandemonium—this seething cauldror of vile passions, jarring interests, aud myriad varieties of selfishness !” ‘You are bitter, Hester.” “Ah! and you would be bitter if you knew this ‘horrible London as well as I!” It was with the most serious attention that Ponchard now again contemplated the young girl, as he asked himself, ‘‘Is her present disposition precisely the same as that which impelled her to narrate her history to me the evening before last ? or has some change taken place within her? If | so, what has caused it ?” ‘“Come, give me more wine!” she said, again bursting out into a light laugh. “Tet us talk of the country once more, Hester,” said Ponchard, refilling her glass, though he had as yet scarcely touched his own. ‘ Shall we talk again of the country ?” “What is the use of it?” exclaimed the girl, almost petulantly. ‘I shall never be able to leave London—unless it be at the end of my career, some few years hence, when I,may perhaps be glad ‘to drag myself away from these busy haunts and seek some shady lane or verdant copse, where I may lay me down to die! ‘Or else’”—and here her eyes flamed suddenly and strangely, and her lips writhed with a bitterness that seemed -to com- municate itself to her words,— I may more pro- bably be perishing on some dunghill—and that heaven knows, must ‘be in the open country !” “Fodlish girl! why do you talk thus?” asked Ponchard, caressing ‘her cheek with his hand, with that soothing and compassionating Kindness of feeling which he was frequently wont to display 1 towards the unfortunate creature. Well, I am silly—and I know it,” she said, now again laughing. ‘TI do not ‘know how it is,” she continued, with a careless manner of speech, and yet with an abstracted expression of counte- nance, ‘but ever since I told you my history the night ‘pefore last, I have felt as if 1 had a sort of right to trouble you with my whims and fancies.” _ ** And you shall do so if you think fit, Hester,” | interrupted Ponchard. ‘But listen to me, my dear girl. Iam going to speak of the country again—I will propose to you a holiday if you will accept it ‘A holiday ?”—and she fixed her eyes inquir- ingly upon him. ‘““Yes—a day’s excursion—a pleasure-trip to some pretty place, where you shall walk through the fields, pick the wild flowers, or rove in tke woods. What say you, Hester ?—will you come with me?” It struck Ponchard that she gazed upon him with a peculiar expression: he did not like it: for the moment it struck him that there was mistrust in that look; and he mentally ejaculated, ‘“‘ By heaven, she does suspect or know something, and she will not trust herself in my company !” But scarcely had this thought swept through his mind, when Hester’s look’ was totally changed ; and as she laid her hand upon his, as if with the familiarity of completest confidence, she said, ‘* Of course I should like such a holiday. Iam only afraid that it would render me averse to return to the stifling atmosphere of the metropolis. How- ever, there is scarcely any pleasure which is totally unmixed with pain; and so it will be in this in- stance.” oO COMO Colin