The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 59: 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. 4 whereas it was but a transient passion which you experienced forme. And then, perhaps, the idea was incessantly present in your mind that I had borne a child to'another-——”" “Yes, Mary,” interrupted Herbert ; “I did think of all this!—aye, I thought of it inces- santly! Yet I never once breathed a reproach in your ear—and I exerted preterhuman efforts to conceal what was passing in my own mind. I ‘could not be openly and flagrantly unjust towards you ! ° stances of your previous career, and how you had become the victim of the villain Edwin St. Clair. And yet I did not less poignantly feel that I had made an immense mistake in supposing that I loved you with that enduring affection which jus- tified me in making you my wife. I will confess the truth—I was even afraid that I should learn to hate you; and I constantly strove to fix my thoughts upon the good traits of your character —upon your kindness towards my afflicted mother as well as towards my brothers and sisters———” “But still, Herbert,” interjected the Duchess, * you could not forget those past circumstances to which you have alluded ?—you could not shut out from your recollection’ that I had been an actress upon the stage, and that I had become the victim of an unprincipled ravisher 2” “This is true, Mary! this is true !” said Her- bert, with a groan ; “and it was almost in a state of mind bordering on desperation that I set off with the intention of making a pedestrian tour through some of the most picturesque counties of England. It was under a strict incognito that I entered upon my design ; and first of all I pro- ceeded into Dorsetshire. I went not elsewhere you now know how it was that the little vil- lage of Southdale in that county became the centre of all possible attractions for me “Who was this Ethel whom you love so fondly ?” inquired the Duchess in a low tone. ‘Her father was an officer in the East India Company’s service; but she does not recollect him—he died in her infancy, leaving a very modest competency for his widow and his child. Ethel’s mother was a good and prudent woman— and she gave her daughter an excellent education. She died a short time before I became acquainted with Ethel; and thus it was as an orphan —in mourning—living by herself in a picturesque cottage—without a relation in the world, though with every one in that village ready to come for- ward and succour her at the slightest intimation that she stood in need of a friend,—yes, it was thus that two years ago we met and———But shall I go on with this narrative ?” ‘‘Yes — proceed,” said the Duchess. ‘ Now that I know so much, I had better know all!” . ‘“*T loved her at first sight———and, Oh! pardon me, Mary, for adding that I then comprehended what true love was! It was a perfect dream in which I was at first steeped. At Jength I was awakened from that Elysian reverie by a’ well- meant yet delicately-put query from the lips of Mr. Milner, the worthy old clergyman of South- dale. He asked me what were my intentions to- wards the beautiful orphan in whom every one felt so deeply interested ? Mary, I feel that this must be a strange story for me, the husband, to tell unto you, the wife——” ‘Proceed, Herbert—proceed,” said the young I married you knowing all the circum-. 43 Duchess, with a look that was completely com- posed, and in a voice which was mildly severe, without the slightest accent of menace in it, and even with a faint tincture of compassionate sym~ pathy. ““As I have said,” pursued the Duke, ‘I was suddenly startled from a dream. How was I to act? I will tell you frankly that I thought of making Ethel my mistress : I marshalled a thou- sand reasons to tranquillize the scruples of my conscience when deliberately making up my mind to become her seducer. But I was deceived ;— and I discovered that the most perfect innocence may prove a woman’s strongest defence. It was so in that case. The devoted love which Ethel bore for me, was not a weakness which might lead to her fall—but it was a virtue in all its sublimest chastity and grandest strength. Oh, pity me, Mary! pity me! My God! how I loved her! And therefore I married her-——or rather I should say, I passed with her through a ceremony which after all was only the mockery of a marriage! nay, more, a crime and an outrage—a dark dam- nable villany on my part !” The Duke of Ardleigh rested his elbows upon his knees, buried his face in his: hands, and wept and sobbed like achild. The Duchess—naturally good-hearted, though her feelings and her prin- ciples had been by circumstances much strained and warped from even a period antecedent to her marriage—could not help experiencing a deep compassion for her husband. ““T do not mean to separate you from your Ethel,” she said. ‘ You love her devctedly—and you must not abandon her.” “Ah, Mary! this is indeed most generous on your part ! !” and the Duke made a motion as if he were on the very point of throwing himself at his wife's feet. ‘No, no, Herbert !” she hastened to interpose ; ‘do not give me credit for too much genuine sin- cerity and magnanimity in the present instance! My conduct is swayed only by selfish considera- tions. In a word, if you are to do precisely what you like in the world, you must not wonder if I expect———” “ Ah!”—and the Duke started: but instanta- neously recovering himself, he said meekly, “‘ Yes, I am in your power; and I, the false unfaithful husband, have no right’ to hope or demand that you shall continue the constant and faithful wife ! From this moment forth, therefore, I renounce all control over your actions. Nay, more—I even thank you for leaving me at liberty to enjoy the society of her towards whom I need not deem my~ self quite a villain so long as of my own accord I do not neglect or abandon her!” ‘‘ We seem to be pretty well agreed,” said the Duchess, ‘‘in respect to our future arrangements. All that I'require from ‘you, Herbert, is a letter or document of some kind which will prevent you from suddenly turning round upon me in case it should ‘please me to indulge in any little fantasy not exactly compatible with the duties of a wife.” ‘Good heavens, Mary!” ejaculated the Duke, with a mingled horror and disgust expressed upon his countenance; ‘“‘how coolly and deliberately you allude to the subject, as if you had already erred, or else had a lover ready to receive, you in his arms!” “You have given me all the details of you oO COMO Colin