The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

nr er re NT 78 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. “With all my heart!” exclaimed the Baronet, springing up to his feet. ‘‘ But how shall we decide it?” ‘You shall go with me at once, and I'll show you the splendid creature anxiously waiting to receive me in her arms.” ‘‘Insufferable coxcomb!” muttered Sir Abel, as he suddenly turned aside to conceal the rage that was rendering his countenance white and his lips ashy. “But good heaven! is this possible ? the brilliant Duchess stoop to such a jackanapes as this!"—and he paced the room in a hurried and agitated manner. “Why, what the deuce ails you, old fellow 2” asked Sylwester. “It really looks as if you your- self had been hankering after the Beauty, and that you are already envious and jealous of me on account of my good luck.” ~ “When shall we set out? and where are we to go?” demanded Sir Abel, withont heeding Sy]- vester’s observations. — We'll set out at once: but as to the place where we are to go to, I shan’t tell you until we've settled the terms on which the business is to be conducted.” , Proceed,” said Kingston, with assumed com- posure, byt with a veritable inward burning im- patience. . “Now, though I want to show you, old fellow,” continued Casey, ‘‘that I’m no idle boaster—and though I shoyld also very much like to win your money, yet of course [ don’t want to insult the fair one’s feelings, and she musn’t think I’m making a show of her.” . “Let me catch but one glimpse of her,” said the Baronet; ‘‘let me obtain a single glance at her countenance, either through a key-hole ora window, or during the opening of shutting of a door—and I will acknowledge myself fairly beaten —I will pay you the wager even though J sell the last two horses that remain to me—and | will moreover look upon you henceforth as one of the cleverest, most fascinating and irresistible of men ! In short, I shall regard you as 4 veritable Adonis, and contemptuously look upon those fellows whom I have hitherto thought very handsome, as no- thing less than monsters and yulgarians.” There was a bitter irony in the conelyding part of this speech : but Sylvester did not, ‘Perceive it: his self-conceit blinded him, He therefore smiled with such a coxcombical complacency that the Baronet could scarcely resist the inclination to knock him down. . “You chaps in the Guards,” he said, “ used to think you could carry everything before you : but some of us civilians are teaching you different, Now you shall come along with me; and mind! when by some means or another I’ve satistied you that it’s all as right as a trivet, you'll just be so goad as to take yourself off at once and leaye me to enjoy the fruits of my conquest.” _ “That is a bargajn,” said Sir Abel, “‘ Haye you any other conditions to dictate?” “None,” replied Sylvester. “But [have something more to say on my own account,” resumed the Baronet. “I’ve told you what I shall think of you if you satisfy me that your statement is correct, | that you are really and truly favoured in this instance. But if on the other hand I find that you have deceived me, I ‘shall expose you as a blackguard and a yes, regardless of all consequences scoundrel that may arise from provoking your father’s . anger!” ““ Come, come, old fellow,” interrupted Syl- vester, colouring up to the very roots of his red hair, ‘this isn’t the right sort of thing you're coming it a little too stron an “True, my dear fellow! true!” said the Baronet, with a péculiar smile. ‘I had no right to address you in such language. Forgive me. Here is my hand,” ae | “Oh ! it’s all right,” said young Casey ; ‘ there’s no ill-will betwixt you and me. Only when you talk in that style, you know, it was putting my monkey up—and I’m a devil of a fellow if I once get into a passion. However, you and I don’t want it to get into the newspapers that there’s been ‘an affair of honour in high life’—‘Sir Abel Kingston, Captain in the Guards’—‘ Sylvester Casey, Esquire’—and all that sort of thing.” “No, no!” interjected the Baronet with a smile of passing irqny and contempt: “there is not much fear of that. But now let us set off.” The two gentleman left the hotel and took their seats in a cab, which at once drove away, Syl- vester simply saying to the driver, “Cut over Westminster Bridge, and then I'll tell you where to go to.’ The Baronet now studiously avoided a topic which he felt he coyld not approach without ex- periencing an almost irresistible inclination to in- flict personal chastisement on his companion. For through Sir Abel’s mind was floating a species of logic to the following effect:—“If the young jackanapes is deceiving me, as a matter of course he deserves a sound thrashing: and jf on the other hand by any inconceivable combination of circumstances he is telling me the truth, it is equally my duty to trouncé him within an inch of his life, for having outrivalled me. But we When the cab had entered upon the Westmin- ster Road, Sylvester presently ‘bawled out, “Fo the right !”—and then, as it turned into the maze of narrow streets, lanes, and alleys composing all that part pf Lambeth, Sir Abel thought to him- self, “The fellow is lying ‘after all! As if she rons ever come into such a neighbourhood as this !’ The cab rolled on; Sylvester presently leant half-way out of the window, and gave some final instructions to the driver. The Baronet continued to discourse on indifferent topics ; but his irritation kept on increasing on finding that there was a certain flippant and impertinent accent of ‘confi-~ dence—a sort of oyerwpening~ superciliousness, in Sylyester’s yoicee = ° At length the cab drew up at the door of a house in one ‘of those obscuré wretched streets ; and Sylvester, springing out’ of the vehicle, said “Now, old fellow, we are here!” - __ He rushed jnto the house; and meeting the elderly woman in the passage, he’ hastily de- manded in a whisper, “Is it all right, Mother AN right,” was the answer. your friend ?” “Not a word about the trick! not a syllable !” gaid Sylvester quickly. ‘““‘He must think she ne of her own accord! There’s a bet on cane it "twixt me and Sir Abel. You twig?” “But who is OS Soe —_—_—_ —_ COMO YN Wn) Colin