The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 274: what you’re looking at

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THE AYSTERIES OF LONDON. looking from the left-hand window, saw that tho threo first houses on that side of the way, towards which her eyes were turned, were in a condition 50 ruinous and dismantled as to strike a chill to her susceptible heart. But the unpleasant sensation almost instantly vanished, when the coach drew up at the door of a house in excellent repair, and pre- senting, in outward appearance, a remarkable con- .. trast to those dilapidated buildings. Here Agnes~and_her mother alighted; and the young matden no longer thought of the sinister- looking ruins adjoining, when she found-herself in a comfortable parlour, where both herself and parent received a cordial welcome from two elderly ladies whose benevolent countenances, agreeable manners, aud kind speech were calculated to inspire confi- dence at once. Tho name of these maiden sisters was Theobald; and they were indeed posgessed of excellent disposi- tions and endowed with the most amiable qualities, Tho moment that Agnes’ mother entered the room, they rose to embrace her with the warmth of an unfeigned friendship; and even before the young maiden was introduced to them, they exclaimed, as if suddenly struck by the same sentiment, “ Ah! this is the dear girl whom you have so long pined to re- cover ? We need not wait to be told that she is your daughtor: the likeness between you proclaims the fact!” And then they embraced Agnes in her turn. The young lady’s mother drew the elder Miss Theobald aside, and said, “I propose to leave my beloved child with you for this night. Circumstances compel me to return home without delay. I have decided upon taking your beautiful little villa at Bayswater, and shall remove all my furniture thither the first thing in tho morning. Itis fortunate that tho sweet dwelling should have.been thus in want of a tenant at this moment.” “Tam delighted for your sake, my dear friend,” responded Miss Theobald, “that the villa is un- occupied, We will send one of our servants at day-break to make all the necessary preparations for your reception. Oh! how sincerely—how deeply do I congratulate you upon having recovered your long-lost daughter !”’ added the kind-hearted woman, in a tone of profound feeling. “It is indeed a source of indescribable solace to my wounded spirit, as you, my dear friend, may well conceive—for you aro acquainted with the principal events of ny chequered existence. But I must now depart: itis growing late—and ere I seck my couch this night, I shall have arranged everything for my removal to Bayswater to-mor- row.” With these words the lady turned towards Agnes, saying, ‘ My dearest child, I Jeave you in the care of these excellent friends, whom it is only necessary to know in order to love.” “1 feel that I do already love them, my dear mother,” responded the young maiden, as she threw herself into her parent’s arms. “ Farewell—till to-morrows my sweet Agnes: soon after mid-day you may expect me—and the Kiss Theobalds can tell you that the new home to which you are then to accompany me, will leave you nothibg to-regret in reference to your own little secluded cottago and beautiful garden in Surrey.” ? “Wherever I may dwell with you, dear mother— 269 tenderly ombracing her whom in two short hours she had thus learnt to love with an affection that seemed to have existed for years. “ Adieu, my darling child,” murmured the fond mother; and she then took her departure. Agnes listened until the sounds of tho retreating wheels were no longer audible --or rather, until they wero absorbed in the ain of the numerous vehicles passing in the immediate neighbourhood of the house: and then a sudden chill scized upon her heart—a damp fell upon her spirits,—her feel- ings, powerfully excited by the incidents of the day, experienced a rapid revulsion—aad, unablo to con- trol her emotions, she burst into tears. CHAPTER CUXXIV. A NIGHT OF TERRORS. THE two ladies hastened to console—or, speak- ing with greater accuracy, endeavoured to console the weeping girl. But, although she knew how friendly disposed they were towards her—although she felt the full extent of their kindness, and even reproached herself with hor inability to yield to its soothing influence,—yet it scemed as if the depar- ture of her mother had left her more alone in tho world than ever she was before. ‘Dry those tears, my sweet Agnes,” said the older Miss Theobald, pressing the maiden’s delicate white hand with cordiality and tenderness, ‘Oh! do not give way to a sorrow for which you have no real cause,” urged the younger of the two ladies. “A fow hours will soon pass, my dear child, and your fond parent will return.” But Agnes, though acknowledging by her gestures the kindness of the sisters, could not subduo her grief; and her sobbing became more convulsive. For a tide of conflicting and painful reflections rushed in upon her soul. She remembered all her father’s goodness towards her—the strong injunc tions he had given her not to hold intercourse with any one who was not the bearor of a letter from him—and the grief that he would experience whon he heard of her departure. Sho thought, likewise, of the terror and dismay which must even already reign at the cottage on account of her mysterious absence: she beheld, in imagination, the excellent- hearted Mrs, Gifford and the good-natured Jane inconsolable at her loss ;—and, apart from all these ideas, she now felt certain misgivings arise in her bosom relative to the step she had taken. Vainly did she endeavour to persuade herself that, acting by the counsel and in obedience to the prayers of her mother, she could not have done wrong: a secret voice appeared to reproach her—an unknown tongue seemed to whisper ominous things in her ears. Terror gained upon her; and, under its in- fluence, her grief became less violent. But her thoughts grew confused—there was a hurry in her brain: she felt as if she had just awakened from a wild and painful dream, and was still unable to collect her scattered ideas ;—and still amidst that confusion, flashed, with vivid brightness to her memory, the warning which her sire had so cm- phatically given to her respecting the snares that were sct by the wicked to entrap the artless and the innocent. At length, overcome by tle terror which thus rapidly acquired a complete empire over there shall I enjoy contentment,” answered Agnes, her soul, and forgetting all that was re-assuring and (C(O) (C DOO SS (SO)