The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 340: what you’re looking at

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

326 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. =, 3 “Why, Lady Amesbury, to be sure!” ejaculated Patrick; ‘that’s the name of the lady who lives at Charlton Villa.” ' ‘“T did not know it before. Does she live alone there ?—for I thought I saw two ladies P ‘‘ Lady Amesbury lives all alone there that is to say, with her servants: but I have noticed that she is occasionally visited by a beautiful girl —'tall and well-formed I don’t know who she is——And indeed it is only on three or four occa- sions that i have noticed her at all.” ‘Your family, then, does not visit Lady Ames- bury?” said Walpole inquiringly. ‘“No; because her ladyship does not court society, She came to live at Charlton Villa for the sake of the strictest seclusion At least so it was given out at the time ” “She is a widow, I presume ?” asked Walpole. “ Yes—the widow of the late General Ames- bury. He was created a baronet, for his services in India: he died about three years ago—but his widow has only occupied the villa for the last few months. As I have told you she keeps herself very much retired; and if any of us happen to be walking in the paddock when she is in her own grounds, she turns away and beats a prompt re- treat. Some say she is in very bad health, for she was many years in India: others declare that |, her husband’s death produced a great effect upon her mind: some few set down her conduct to pride; but so far as I can judge from the occa- |} sional glimpses I have caught of her at a distance, I should say that so far from being proud, she is retiring, diffident, and amiable. She also strikes me as possessing the remains of great beauty— even if she may not still be termed beautiful But, Ab! there’s the dinner bell; and a right welcome sound it is!” ; The few particulars which Edward Walpole had succeeded in gleaning from his cousin Patrick, only tended to increase the mystery of the ap- pointment which had been given him. ‘The voung lady evidently did not live at Charlton Villa, and was only an occasional visitress. Little likely was it, therefore, that the appointment was made in her behalf—as Edward had at first flat- tered himself it might be. For what purpose, then, had it been made at all? Was this lady who lived in such strict seclusion, a demirep? was she courting an amorous intrigue? It was natural enough under the circumstances that this conjecture should strike the young man: but he had too little vanity to give it place for any length of time in his imagination. Besides, there had been nothing in Lady Amesbury’s looks, when she spoke to him at the fence, to indicate the wanton. Yet it was assuredly mysterious enough that she who refused all society, and who even avoided coming into the slightest contact with her neighbours, should have given such a rendezvous to him, a complete stranger! The whole affair was perplexing and bewildering enough: but Edward Walpole had curiosity suffi- cient to induce him to resolve on séeing the end of the adventure. The evening passed away at Highbury House, in the same happy manner~as ‘the preceding one ; and shortly. after ten o’clock Edward Walpole’s phaeton and paif drove round to the door. He took leave of his relations—entered the vehicle— and drove away. But in a few moments he tenance becoming animated with satisfaction. stopped—alighted—and bade his coachman drive the phaeton to a tavern at no great distance, and there wait till his return. Edward then retraced his way on foot towards his uncle’s residence ; and with the knowledge which he now possessed of the grounds, it was easy for him to find his way unmolested and without creating any alarm, to the place of appointment. It was a beautiful clear night—in the early part of June, be it re- -collected—and all objects were plainly visible. _The fence was reached: but Edward found him- self alone there. ‘was close upon the half-hour—and he remem- ‘bered that he was enjoined to be punctual. Would He looked at his watch: it the lady herself be exact? He had scarcely asked himself the question, when he beheld a female form approaching amidst the trees of the orchard; and ‘he quickly recognised Lady Amesbury. Leaping the fence, he stood in her presence. ‘“‘T am glad you are here,” she said, her coun- 39 ] was afraid something might hinder you from keeping the appointment.” ‘“An appointment given under such circum- ‘ stances,” replied Walpole, “could not fail to com- mand obedience.” ‘ ‘‘ Ah! then, you suspect ” ‘*T suspect nothing,” rejoined the youth. ‘ Per- haps the moment is now come when all mystery may cease ?” | A peculiar smile stole over the lady’s counte- nance: it assuredly was not a smile of wanton- ness nor of immodest encouragement: it was in no sense unamiable—but still it was undefin- able. ‘“‘Come with me,” she said, somewhat abruptly. “ This way!” She led the young nyan through the orchard ; and as he followed her, he naturally wondered more and more at the adventure in which he was engaged. A shrubbery was reached; arid this, as it appeared, constituted a boundary between the orchard and the garden. ‘‘ Remain here for a few moments,” whispered Lady Amesbury: .and she lightly laid her hand as she spoke upon Walpole’s arm. She then glided away from him, leaving him within the shade of the shrubbery. He looked after her; but she disappeared amidst the trees of the garden. Some moments of profound silence elapsed—and then all of a sudden the deep still- ness was broken by strange sounds: they were those of a tambourine. Theése lasted for three or four minutes ; and’ when they ceased, a merry peal of musical laughter, but in the sweetest feminine tones, rang out upon the moonlit night and were wafted to Edward Walpole’s ear. That silvery outburst of merriment ceased; and then followed the unmistakable sounds of castanets.° Walpole listened with amazement—almost with stupefac- tion : he could scarcely believe his own ears: he thought he must be labouring under some mis- take in fancying that all these evidences of gaiety and mirthfulness could emanate from a place which had been chosen as the seclusion of a be- reaved widow! But there was indeed no room for doubt : there were the sounds of the castanets ; —and suddenly ceasing, they were followed by another beating and clashing of the tambourine. _ “Is it possible,” asked Walpole of himself, “that I have been brought hither to assist pre- oO SS COMMIGIOO a aE ae ee Conn