The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

26 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. SR pretty girl—though I say it which perhaps should’nt say it, being her brother ;—and so I have no doubt they will like each other well enough when they are spliced.” ‘‘And so your sister is a very pretty young lady ?” said Alice: and then, after a pause, she inquired with a sly look towards her protector, “Ts she anything like you?” “Well,” said Sylvester, rising from the sofa, and advancing towards the mirror, in front of which he stood running his freckled hand through his horrible red hair, “‘I can’t say that she is pre- cisely in my style, though of course there is a | certain family resemblance: but her hair is not ——hem—auburn like mine; and—and—her com- plexion has not of course got these—what-d’ye call them ?—sunburns, whi¢gh are all very well in a man Indeed they rather become him— though in a woman they may be thought slightly objectionable. Then, as for eyes, mine are ” “Green,” Alice ventured to interjeet, but in a low tone. “Eh! what?” ejaculated Sylvester, ag he gave a sudden start. ‘You sai 7 Nothing,” rejoined Alice, looking up quite in- nocently. “Pray go on. You were degeribing your sister.” ‘* Oh, well,” eried the young man, still smarting under the idea that his mistress had intended to joke insultingly with him, “ have told you enough about my sister to-day. But by the bye, Alice,” he went on to observe, recovering his good temper, “you were speakmg just now about my taking you out somewhere for an excursion to-morrow ; and you named the Star and Garter at Ricamond. Now, what should you say if I were to tell you to invite your friend Mactemoiselle Imogene ?” ‘“* She would not come,” answered Alice, “ She wouldn’t come?” ejaculated Sylvester. mean to say she plays, the prude when everbody knows she has got a child of three or four years old.” ‘Ah, that child indeed !” exclaimed Alice, as if she were about to make some revelation con- cerning it: and then checking herself, she said, “But it is of no use—you would not believe me if I were to tell you.” “Not believe what ? That your friend Imogen 4s privately married—or is a widow—or anything else to prove that she is quite a respectable cha- racter ?”—and Sylvester laughed mockingly. “ No matter, sir!” interjected Alice, somewhat sharply : “let us change the subject. And now,” she asked, good-humouredly, “ will you come and take me for an excursion to-morrow ? or will you not? Ido not particularly care—only I wish to know for certain; because if you could not pos- sibly make it convenient, there is Mr. Blun- de]]—_” “What! the acrobat ?” ejaculated Sylvester. “Well, yes—the acrobat,” rejoined Alice. ‘‘ There is no harm in Veing an acrobat——is there? I am sure he is a very handsome man—and all the ladies seem to admire him, particularly when he climbs to the top of the ladder, or balances him- self upon the great globe up the sloping plank.” “Well, well—what of your Mr. Blundell ?” de- manded Sylvester, with an air of jealous vexa- tion. “Only that he was telling me yesterday,” re- 2 ee ey a ee plied Alice, ‘“‘ that whitebait dinners have begun at Greenwich and Blackwall—and he offered to take me to one of those places to-morrow.” “Oh, but I haven't said yet that I won't take you to the Star and Garter at Richmond. And now that I think of it, I should rather like the trip. It is not at all probable we shall meet any of the Trentham family down there on a Sunday; and so I will take you, Alice. But don’t go and flatter yourself, now, that I am jealous of this Mr. Blun- dell the acrobat ; for such an idea would be ridi- eulous. And now good bye till to-morrow.” My Sylvester Casey took his departure ; and as he endeavoured to make his equipage cut sharp round the nearest corner, so as to give a proof of his skill in driving to all persons who might be beholding him at the moment, he dashed one of the fore-wheels with such violence against the lamp-post that it was a marvel the phaeton was not upset. The bystanders laughed; and Mr. Sylvester Cagey’s dignity experienced the utmost humiliation foy some little time, until by the aid of his consummate conceit it was enabled to re- caver itself. Soon after Sylvester's departure, Alice Denton put on her bonnet and scarf and proceeded to pay another visit to her friend Imogen Hartland. She found the Star of the Citcus seated in her little parlour in a very thoughtful mood ; and the child, as usual, was playing with her toys. Imogen made a slight gesture of impatience as. Alice entered the room—for she wished to be alone with her own reflections. ‘‘Am I intruding ?” inquired Miss Denton, who was too good-humoured to take offence for so slight a cause. “Ifso, E will retire. I shall see you to-night at the theatre. I dare say you are surprised to find me dropping in upon you twice | in the same day - “ Well, that would be a fine game! Yow don’t | , speaking kindly and even affectionately to her “Do not go away, Alice,” said Imogen, now . friend, whose hand she took. “I have something to tell you. Yes—I will tell you what has oc- eurred. There need be no secrets between you _and me !”——Then, after a pause, she added very seriously and in a low voice, ‘I have seen him— T have spoken to him—TI have been alone with him—his hand has been pressed to my lips and to my heart ” ‘Good heavens, Imogen! And yet you are unhappy ?” ejaculated Alice. “You are pale— careworn : ‘How can I be otherwise than unhappy ?” asked Imogen, shaking her head with an air of the deepest despondency. ‘ Launcelot Os- borne Ms ‘“‘Launcelot Osborne?” cried Alice, at once struck by the name. “Yes,” responded Imogen ; “ he whom I loved —aye, and gtill love—is Launcelot Osborne, the son of Lord Trentham.” ‘And he is engaged to be married,” exclaimed Alice, ‘to the sister of Sylvester Casey !” “What !” cried Imogen, starting with mingled indignation and astonishment: ‘ that handsome and amiable young man to throw himself away . upon the daughter of a griping money-lender—a notorious usurer ?” “Jt is as I tell you,” rejoined Alice. “ Ah! little did 1 think when just now listening to Syl- vester’s nonsensical chattering, I should learn any- Connicloooks Colin