The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 337: what you’re looking at

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

a nee grounds that were well laid out. This was High- bury House—for so the mansion was called. It was with feelings which we cannot describe that the young man alighted at the place where he was about to be welcomed by those relations whom he had never seen before. In a few moments he was in their midst. Mrs. Seymour was a handsome woman, of about five-and-forty—affable and good- natured—without undue pride or pretension—hos- pitable, sincere, and warm-hearted. She at once embraced the nephew who was now presented to her; and the very first words that she spoke were calculated to place him at his ease, to relieve him of any feeling of embarrassment, and to convey the assurance that he was welcome there. He was then presented to his cousins. These consisted of two young men, a little older than himself—and three girls, who were younger. They were all good-looking and good-tempered; and they re- ceived their cousin with acordiality which showed how deeply interested they were in him. By the time he had been an hour in their company, he felt as if he had known them for at least a whole year. - The young men took him to the stables to show him their horses: the young ladies con- ducted him through the flower-garden and led him to inspect the conservatories ; and after lun- cheon Mr. and Mrs. Seymour took him over the _house, which was sumptuously furnished and ' contained many excellent pictures. Neither Mrs. Seymour nor his cousins put any direct questions - to him in reference to the past circumstances of ' his life; nor did they make any allusion thereto ; —and when Edward Walpole found that this was the case, he felt all the more completely at _his ease. Never had he enjoyed such perfect , happiness : it seemed almost too great to be real : _ his heart was overflowing—and he longed to be ' alone for a little while that he might give vent : to the feelings which, he could scarcely restrain. At length, between four and five o’clock, when : his uncle, his aunt, and his cousins dispersed to ' their respective chambers to dress for dinner, Edward descended from the one to which he had ; been shown; and escaping into the garden, he rushed through the grounds, as if obedient to an impulse which he could not possibly resist. A . gate which stood open led him into a paddock, which sloped down towards a low fence separating : 1¢ from an orchard attached to another house which stood near. On reaching this boundary, the young man threw himself upon the grass, and . covering his face with his hands, burst into tears. _It was thus that his feelings found a natural vent: but not tears of sadness were they which were thus shed. _No!—they were the overflow of : a joy—a bliss—a- degree of happiness which could find expression in no other way. And then, as Edward Walpole thought of many past incidents of his life, and contrasted his present position with _ what it had lately been, he tried to articulate some words of thankfulness to heaven; but his - voiee was broken in sobs, and then he wept again. ‘“‘ Good heavens, sir, what ails you?” he heard a soft musical voice suddenly inquiring. He started up and beheld on the other side of the fence a young lady of the most extraordinary beauty, and whose clear blue eyes were fixed upon him with an expression of compassionate in- THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. : : terest. She was elegantly dressed ; she had on a 323 bonnet and mantle; she was tall, and of elegant shape. — Edward Walpole, we say, had sprung up to his feet ; and as he dashed away his tears, his countenance glowed with shame at the thought of having been discdvered in such a state by the lovely stranger. He could give no reply to the question which she had so kindly put to him ; but he stood gazing at her over the fence, which stood in a sort of hollow bétween the paddock which sloped upward on one side and the orchard which rose with a similar swell on the other side. “T fear you must think me very rude in put- ting such a question,” said the young lady, “ and intruding upon-your grief——” “No! no!” ejaculated Edward: “it was not grief—it was happiness!” _ a “Happiness?” echoed the young lady, with an air of surprise. ‘And yet——" but she stopped short, as if afraid to give utterance to the words which had come to the very tip of her tongue _ ‘‘T thank you,” said the young man, “ for the kind interest which you have displayéd on my behalf. Pray speak on. You were about to make some observation?” “May I speak frankly ?” asked the young lady. . v Assuredly—t wish you to do so:” and Edward Walpole was now contemplating her with a de- gree of admiration that was only subdued by the respect which her appearance inspired; for there was an unmistakable air of superiority about her —an air of good. breeding and of refined gentility which could not have failed to strike even the most superficial observer. . “T was going to observe,” she resumed, “that you startled me when you declared that your emotions arose from a sense of happiness; for you were assuredly weeping and sobbing as if over- whelmed by the direst calamity.” “ Doubtless this was the impression which my conduct must have made upon your, mind,” said Walpole, again colouring with shame as he thought of what had happened. “ But those tears which one sheds through excess of joy, are per- fectly similar to those which are shed through grief.” . | “True!” said the young lady, with an air of reflection: ‘all tears are alike, though flowing from such different sources. But frankly speak- ing, I never before knew happiness display itself with such a phase; and you will permit me to congratulate you that so much emotion did not arise from very opposite circumstances.” “T accept your congratulations with gratitude,” answered Walpole; and then, as he saw that the young lady, having inclined her head in graceful and modest salutation, was about to turn away from the spot, he hastened to exclaim, “I con- sider myself your debtor—I owe you an explana- tion in return for the generous sympathy you have displayed on my behalf!” His object was to detain her a little longer in discourse; for he was enchanted by her beauty, and his soul was ravished by the tones of her voice. : . _ “Tt is a Christian duty,” she said, ‘to show sympathy towards one’s fellow-creatures if they seem to be in distress. I know that many young ladies would have at once turned away on behold- oO COMMIGIOO Colin