The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 69: 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. eg gg tO nna 55 opinion in reference to the state of her mind: but that is a subject of consideration for a jury. I must commit in this case to Dorchester gaol. The Duke of Ardleigh gave so suddeu a start that all eyes were fixed upon him: for a few moments he gasped as if endeavouring to give utterance to some words which stuck in his*throat; and then he suddenly turned towards Ethel, whose hand he took and strained to his lips, That hand she abandoned for an instant; and then she firmly and resolutely withdrew it. “T understand it all!” hastily whispered. fhe | s worthy clergyman to the magistrate. “She has taken some unaccountable aversion to her own husband! Alas, poor monomaniac! Your worship will make an order that she may have her child with her in the gaol? for in the present state of her mind it would perhaps goad her to utter mad- ness to be separated from it.” “T will allow the child to accompany her to Dorchester,” replied Squire Ponsford; “ but it must then be left to the discretion of the civil and medical authorities of the goal whether the infant be permitted to remain with her.” Ethel averted her eyes from the young Duke: but heaven knows it was not through aversion ! It was through fear lest while gazing on him whom she had loved so devotedly, and whom she still loved—the father of her child—the whole structure of her courage should give way, and all the unnatural calmness she had maintained should in a moment dissolve in agonized weep- ing, or change into paroxysms of maniac lamen- tation accompanied by piercing screams. ‘Let me get her away into another room, apart from the gaze of the people,” hastily whis- pered Mr. Milner in the Duke's ear; “and do you keep out of her sight. I beseech you to do this; for her mind is evidently fraught with a morbid aversion towards you—-and that is no doubt the reason she sought to destroy the evi- dence of your marriage.” “But how will she go to Dorchester? and what about the poor child?” demanded Herbert, in quick petulant tones; for he was full of agony | throughout—mentally ‘and physically-;-and en- raged against all the world, with the single ex- ception of the lovely and m anjmous creature who had thus sacrificed herself for his sake. “ I am just going to send of for a postchaise,” answered Milner, who, making every allowance for the Duke’s hastiness and petulance, was mil and benevolent in his demeanour; ‘‘ and Squire Ponsford will allow your unfortunate wife to stay here till the vehicle comes. going to see about it; and he will also so arrange that the chaise shall bring up your nursemaid and your child, together with. the effects that your poor Ethel may have brought with her.” The Drake of Ardleigh suddenly became ashamed of his inapatience; and seizing the worthy cler- gyman’s hand, he pressed it with the most grate- ful effusion. “Thanks! a thousand thanks!” he murmured, in a broken voice. ‘Oh, if every Christian minister were like you! But, Ah! to Jook upon that angelic face, so full of beauty and sweet- ness—and to think—to think that she is going to a gaol—my God! ’tis enough to drive me mad!” “Calm yourself—calm yourself, my young | titude ! Farmer White is , friend !” ‘said Milner: “ exert your Christian for- Your poor wife is certain to be ac- quitted; and then you will be enabled to devote every attention to her. But get you away for the present—and I will conduct her to another apartment.” Herbert rushed from the room: the servants, who all knew him by sight as Mr. Trevor, made way for him with every display of courtesy and every evidence of sympathy. He felt, the want of fresh’ air—he seemed to be in the midst of a stifling atmosphere—it was as if he were suffo- eating. He was hurrying towards the front door, when he suddenly caught sight of Gaffney and Peppercorn—an idea ‘struck him—he made a asty sign for themi to follow—and he left the house where he had passed through an ordeal more terrible than even that through which poor Ethel had been dragged; for he hated and loathed himself as the cause of all her miseries—whereas she on the other hand had been sustained by the consciousness that her’s was a self-martyrdom endured on account of him whom she had loved so tenderly and so well! Tim Gaffney and Jack Peppercorn were too cautious and wary to follow the Duke instanta- neously out of the hall, as by so doing it would betray that he had beckoned. to them; and they remembered his injunction that they were not to, seem to know him. They therefore lounged out a few minutes after he had taken his depar- tute; and when once in the obscurity of the park, they sped after him. They found him waiting impatiently for their appearance; and he petulantly ejaculated, ‘‘ I thought you were hever coming is “You told us to be discreet,” responded Gafi- ney; ‘‘and ‘so, if we've done wrong in obeying your Grace’s own orders —— “ Hush!” interjected Ardleigh. ‘Yes, yes—I see that you are discreet—and I am rejoiced at it! Now, if I mistake not, you are men who have no objection to earn money without being over nice——” ““ To come to the point at once, my lord,” said Tim Gaffney, “ there isn’t two men in all the country that likes to make money more than we do, or that is less partickler how we make it. So don’t be afeard, my lord, to speak out your mind to us—for I think there's something you want to say.” a You are acquainted with a certain secret of mine,” resumed Herbert; “ and I mean to give you a thousand pounds to keep it.” Exclamations of joy burst from the lips of Tim Gaffney and Jack Peppercorn; and they could scarcely restrain themselves from hugging the Duke in their delight at this unexpected liberality. “ But that is not all,” resumed Herbert. “I will give you another thousand pounds if that young lady—you know whom I mean”—and he pointed towards the mansion—“ is enabled to es- cape from the constable who will presently be directed to convey her in a postchaise to Dor- chester.” ‘It shall be done, my lord,” replied Tim Gaff- ney, with the emphasis of one who felt confident of achieving that which he promised. ‘“‘ Give us an earnest of your Grace’s liberality, and trust to us for the rest. We want no better paymaster than your lordship.” COMO VN Wn)