The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 60: what you’re looking at

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46 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. bigamous connexion,” replied the Duchess; “ and it is not now for you to play the part of a maudlin sentimentalist.” The Duke coloured to the very hair of his head; and he looked profoundly humiliated. The Duchess was perfectly composed. ‘ At all events, Mary,” her husband presently said, “let, the compact between us—infamous as it is—rest upon our mutual honour: but submit me not to the degradation of signing with my own hand a document which if it came before the world, would brand us both with everlasting shame !” “T will take care of the document,” said the Duchess, calmly but resolutely. ‘It shall be your fault if it ever come to the knowledge of the world.” ‘Good heavens! am I not already sufficiently in your power?” exclaimed the Duke. “Could you not at the very first indication of hostility on my part,—could you not, I ask, turn round upon me and proclaim this bigamous connexion to. which you have so emphatically alluded ?” “Ethel may die, and then my hold over you would cease,” answered the Duchess; ‘‘ whereas on the other hand the first false step that I take, leaves me everlastingly in your power. It is for this reason that I demand the document.” The Duke made a gesture of ineffable disgust ; but he was about to seat himself at a table where there were writing materials, when Lavinia entered the room, bearing a letter which she presented to his Grace. He instantly recognised the handwriting: he started as if a serpent had stung him—a deadly pallor overspread his’ coun- tenance—and he reeled towards a seat. Lavinia meanwhile had retired; or else she would have marvelled how a mere glimpse of the superscrip- tion of that letter could have produced upon her ducal master an effect as terrible as if it were his death-warrant which had met his view. ‘You apprehend something ?” said the Duchess, whose curiosity was much piqued. ‘“‘Tt is from Ethel,” he answered, in a hollow voice. ‘She evidently knows all—for this letter is addressed to the Duke of Ardleigh !” With trembling hands he opened it; and a paper fell upon the carpet. He picked it up: it was the marriage-certificate signed by the Rey. Mr. Milner of Southdale. The contents of the letter ran as follow :— ‘The thunderstorm which for some hours had seemed to be. collecting above my head, has at length burst. It would have proved overwhelm- ing, were it not that God left me strength suffi- cient to bear up against it for my poor child’s sake. Not asyllable of reproach will I address to you: but we must never meet again. It was my pride and happiness to be your’s so long as methought I was your’s in all honour: but it would be degradation and misery to continue your's in dishonour. AsIdo not reproach you, do not reproach yourself! Nay, more—lI can for- give you because I know that you love me. Yes —you must have loved me, or you would not have incurred the tremendous risk which you have encountered. I enclose you this certificate in order that you yourself may destroy a docu- ment the existence of which places you in so much peril. “That you may.be made aware of the precise extent to which the stupendous secret is known, and that you may labour under no unnecessary suspense on the point, I give you the ensuing in- formation:—It appears that when Mr. Hogben and his nephew came back again to the garden last evening, it was that the latter might obtain another view of you and fully identify you to his uncle. The moonbeams played upon your coun- tenance as you retwmned to the casement; and. it was sufficient. The clerk mentioned the discovery ° to his Vicar, Dr. Pickstock, who called upon me. Between those three persons—the vicar, the clerk, and the nephew—the secret, rests. “T have now no difficulty in conjecturing who the disguised lady was. With her splendid figure —with her handsome profile, her clear complexion, her light brown hair, and her large blue eyes— who could that be but the brilliant Duchess? I entreat you to give such explanations as may convince her Grace that I did not willingly and wilfully offend against her. Let her be disarmed, if possible, of angry feelings towards me; and, Oh! may she forgive you as sincerely as I have already bestowed upon you my own pardon! “You will hear from me again in a few days, when I hope to be enabled to give you one more proof of the disinterested love that I have borne you !—yes, one last proof—and then farewell for ever! I beseech you to remain at Ardleigh House until you receive the promised communication from me.” There was no signature—and the letter was dated from no place; so that the half-distracted Herbert could not even tell whether it was written at Addington or in London, or elsewhere. All the first part of the writing was firm and steady: but the latter portion was tremulous—and there were evidences that tears had been dropped upon the paper. Oh! the young Duke full well compre- hended that these must have been scalding tears of anguish; and in the frightful vividness of his fevered fancy they now seemed to be falling like drops of boiling oil on his own brain and of molten lead on his own heart! ‘My God!” he despairingly moaned; “I am righteously punished! Look, Mary, look! Could you wish your most bitter enemy to endure ex- cruciations more horrible than poor Ethel must have felt when penning these lines—or tortures more poignant than I have felt while reading them 2?” The Duchess took the letter, and hastily ran her eyes over ifs contents—while her husband paced to and fro in the apartment like one who was about to go mad. “I must fly to her! I must fly to her!” he suddenly ejaculated: and he bounded towards the door. “' Be not insensate, Herbert,” cried the Duchess, springing from the sofa and holding him back. ‘You cannot expect her to be any longer at Dahlia Cottage—and you assuredly do not hope to fall in with her in the very first street of ap metropolis along which you may frantically y “ True!” he ejaculated: and then wringing his hands in despair, he cried, “Ethel, Ethel! and my darling Alfred! Oh shall I never see ye more ?” LY LR A Te A ee ep pe a COMO Colin