The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 361: what you’re looking at

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

THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. ‘not for worlds would I destroy or sully the pure feeling of friendship which now exists between us!—or may I not call it the fraternal love which on our restoration to each other has super- seded whatsoever passion formerly subsisted be- tween us? No, Edward! I would not be your mistress!—for even without all the considera- tions which I have just now set before you, | de- clare that come what will and happen what may, Vice and I have shaken hands for ever! I would sooner perish as a suicide than return into the life of misery from which you have rescued me!” ‘‘ And there is no chance, Hester, that you will ever be tempted to such a relapse,” exclaimed Walpole vehemently; ‘still less that you will be driven to the horrible alternative that you have suggested! But now that you have unfolded all your mind to me, do you not feel calmer ?” ‘*T do, Edward—I do. I wished that this in- terview should see everything explained and cleared up between us, so that nothing might remain unsaid and there should be no unnatural excitement for me after to-day. Yet it was for this very reason that I dreaded as well as longed fur the present meeting !” ‘‘Now you are exciting yourself again, Hes- ter! Pray be calm! There is a subject which I have been endeavouring to approach for the last half-hour; but scarcely do I get near it, when you say something to repel me.” “Speak, Edward. I am now perfectly calm. Besides, I am bound to listen to you!”—and as she thus spoke, she reclined back gently on the cushions again. “We have been talking upon subjects of a varied character,” resumed Walpole, ‘‘ most of them disagreeable and unpleasant enough: but -now the one which I am about to approach is calculated to be fraught with the purest and most unalloyed happiness—and it interests you most deeply. I was telling you a much just now —but you did not hear me at'the time: other things were uppermost in your mind.” ‘.. “Edward,” said Hester, ‘after all that has been done for me, I can conceive no new source whence happiness may arise except in a quarter where all hope appears to be dead !” ‘There is always hope while there is life,” re- plied Walpole significantly ; “and who shall venture to define the power or the readiness of providence to develop even those mysteries waioH may appear most inscrutable ?” “Oh, Edward!” cried the young girl, catching at his words ; “are you indeed destined to prove a good angel to me altogether? Speak, speak ! Has not a sufficient amount of happiness been as yet awarded me for the miseries of the past ?” “Now, thank heaven, that I have got you in the right track, Hester,” pursued Walpole, with a smile, ‘‘ you will be prepared to receive the happy tidings 7 ‘What? what? Speak! Oh, speak! hesitate! I will command myself!” “Yes, Hester—you must be as calm as possible! I am about to speak to you of—of. ad The young girl gasped, she essayed.to speak— but she could not; and Walpole, fancying that she was sufficiently prepared and that further suspense might only prove injurious, proceeded to say, “ The secret of your parentage is not alto- gether lost. On the contrary, heaven has placed Do not 847 me in a particular path, for its own purposes, that I might become the means of giving a daughter to the arms of a mother now fervently longing to strain her to her bosom!” Hester took Walpole’s hand and pressed it be- tween both her own, while the tears were trickling down her cheeks, and the workings of her coun- tenance showed how deeply stirred were the ten- derest, the liveliest, and the strongest emotions of her heart. Her power of speech was still suspended: but, Oh! what a volume of eloquence in her looks! “You must prepare to learn, Hester,” continued Walpole, drawing aside the veil with as much delicacy as possible, ‘‘that though a mother is ready and eager to claim, and to recognise you, yet that you will know no father’s love! Not that the author of your being is dead——-No! he lives—and although I am acquainted with his name, yet it were perhaps better that you your- self should not ask it; for he deeply, deeply wronged your mother—and this poor mother of your’s cannot look upon him otherwise than with feelings that are even stronger than repugnance.” “Enough, Edward! enough!” murmured Hester; “T will not ask concerning my father. But my mother—Oh, my mother! when may I see her ? when may I embrace her ?” ‘‘Presently, Hester—this very day “Oh, Edward! did I not say that you were to prove unto me like an angel from heaven? My mother !—is it possible? my mother !’—and the poor creature, again sinking back upon the cushions from which in her excited feelings she had raised herself, placed her hands before her eyes and yielded to the hitherto unknown luxury of feelings which were engendered by the power of being enabled to pronounce the sweet and touching name of ‘‘ Mother!” Thé young man then proceeded, in the same delicate way as before, to give Hester some few requisite explanations,—telling her that her mother was Lady Amesbury, the widow of the celebrated General Officer—that she was affluent —still young, and of prepossessing appearance— but that her intellects were to some little degree disordered, chiefly it might be believed, from the supposition that her daughter had ceased to exist, and that there was consequently now every hope of a complete mental improvement when that daughter should be restored to her. It were use- less to elaborate this portion of our tale with reiterated descriptions of the sentiments and feel- ings displayed by Hester as she listened to the various revelations that were being breathed in her ear; but there is one particular point which requires explanation, and which we shall now give in the young man’s own words. “‘T should tell you, Hester, that your mother knew of the pecuniary arrangements that were made on your behalf by her unprincipled seducer : she knew likewise that these arrangements were effected through the medium of his broker, Mr. Warren, the father of the individual who at pre- sent carries on the business. It was because your poor mother was constantly expressing a wish to her mother to embrace her child, if only for a mo- ment, that it was determined to remove you from one seminary to another ; and hence your sudden transference from the care of the Morphews at Lewisham to Miss Thompson’s at Brompton. The ” Connicloooks oO Colin