The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

_ holy as it was mysterious. _ it was a sentiment. _ frenetic in it:—its flow was soft and agreeable: _ flung herself at his feet. 22 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. Again was his hand pressed to Imogen’s lips, and then to her heart; and if shé wondered that he bestowed no caress in exchange, but merely continued to abandon that\hand to her, she the next moment thought to herself, ‘ He will finish his narrative—he will bring it down to the pre- sent point, so that I may thoroughly understand | his entire conduct ;—and then he will be all love and affection towards me !” “You may judge,” continued Launcelot, ‘ from what I have been telling you, that I lived as it were in @ dream, and that my imagination had created for itself an existence more visionary than ever the wildest flight of poetic fancy attained ! You may even consider me a madman or a maudkhin sentimentalist—a drivelling idiot——” “No, no!” murmured Imogen, in a low faint ' ‘voice: and again was the hand pressed still more fervidly to her lips and to her heart. “Well then, you are kind to make allowances for me,” continued Launcelot, ‘for I confess that nothwithstanding the turn which circumstances . have taken, I do not feel despicable in my own estimation. I was not the master of my own feelings: I yielded to the influence of a love as It was not a passion: There was nothing fierce nor it was dreamy and visionary, yet cherishing all the hopes of a vital reality. For you understand me, I pictured to myself that being to be pure and virtuous: I thought that her goodness must bear ‘the closest relation to her beauty, and that the . loveliness or her person was ‘the external sign of the loveliness of her soul. Good God, how I was mistaken! All in a moment the bandage fell from my eyes—it was as if 1 had been walking in darkness and a light suddenly blazed upon me, lurid and sinister, showing me that she was a lost, fallen, dishonoured creature !” : A wild cry burst from the lips of Imogen as she sprang up from the footstool, and in an instant regained her feet. Launcelot started up from the sofa; and quick as lightning did his eyes glance over the form of the veiled one before him. Then a tremendous agitation seized upon him—he be- came white as a sheeét—he quivered visibly from head to foot—and he ejaculated, ‘‘ You are not you are not she whom I took you for!” “ No—I am Imogen herself :” and in a moment the veil was thrown back, revealing a counte- nance which was even more pale and ghastly, more agitated and scared, than that of the young man himself. “Oh, my God!” he murmured, pressing his hand to his brow; “how did this happen ?—and what have I done ?” ‘‘Launcelot, hear me! hear me!” exclaimed Imogen; “hear me, I beseech you!”—and she “You have taken me for another—some tremendous mistake has been committed—evidently by your parents likewise— you are about to wed that other—and therefore all hope is dead for me! But still—but still I would not have you think ” “ Oh, Imogen! no mére!—’tis vain! We must . part for ever !”—and with these wildly ejaculated words, Launcelot burst from the apartment. For upwards of a minute did Imogen remain upon her knees—there, where she had knelt to him—there, on that spot whence he had just fled away—there she still knelt, bowed down, crushed —the fine-spirited young woman leveiled as it were to the very dust beneath the overwhelming weight of a stupendous calamity! At length she slowly rose up: she caught sight of her couute- nance in a Mirror opposite—arid she started as if some other face had been looking forth upon her from the polished surface, so altered and woe~ begone had her own countenance become! She sat down in a chair close by a table; she buried her face in her hands, and she reflected pro- foundly. Several minutes passed; and she wondered whether any one would come to her. She was inclined to ring the bell and ask to see Launcelot again, if only fora few moments: then she thought of penning a few lines and summoning a servant to bear the billet to him: but abruptly discarding both these projects, she ejaculated with bitterness, “Of what avail? He is affianced to another! All is at an end for me!” She drew the thick veil again over her counte- nance, and she issued from the apartment. ‘The hall-porter was at his post: he had the same quiet, good-humoured, respectful look as before; and Imogen was almost surprised as she mentally ejaculated, ‘’ He suspects not that anything extra- ordinary has been taking place !”—for a moment before it seemed to her as if every one whom she might encounter would stare at her with a mean- ing and a significancy. The hall-porter opened the door and bowed as Imogen went forth. “‘Ffe doubtless takes me for another,” she in- wardly thought,—“ that other who was evidently expected here at the same time !—that other to whom Launcelot is now affianced !” Imogen descended the steps; and when she reached the bottom, the door was closed behind her. She continued her way through the Square with a species of dismay in her brain and a horrible tight- ening at the heart. At length she suddenly recol- lected something. A respectable-looking female- servant was advancing; aud Imogen accosted her, saying, ‘‘ Would you be kind enough. to tell me whose is that large house with the green ve~ randahs ?” “Oh, that is Lord Trentham’s, ma’am,” was the reply. “Ah! and their family: “They have but one son,” rejoined the servant- maid,——“a very handsome young man—the Hon. Mr. Osborne.” “Thank you,’ murmured Imogen; and she pursued her way homeward. CHAPTER V. ALICE DENTON AND HER FRIEND. At about the same time that the preceding scene was occurring at Trentham House in Berkeley Square, a dashing phaeton and pair, having crossed Waterloo Bridge, turned into the York Roadi— which, for the benefit of our country readers, we may as well observe, is a street in the immediate neighbourhood of Astley’s Theatre. Though ofno very high pretensions, it was neverthéless a superior street to that in which Imogen Hartland COMO YN Wn)