The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 360: what you’re looking at

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

aaa -_— —- bpeedily plunged into the routino of fashionable dissipation. " Nevortholess, when alone with ime, she was over cold and reserved—if not positively sullen and morose. In the course of time she was in the way to become a mother—-and I hoped that the birth of a child might subdue a portion of her coldness towards me, even if the tie were not strong enough to induco,her to loveme. But when Agnes ~——my darling Agnes—was born, hor manner variod not one tittle in respect to myself. Time passed on—and ot last I began to entertain serious sus- picions of tho fidolity of my wifo—for I found tliat bho had frequent interviews, not altogether acci- dental, with Sir Gilbert Heathcote, who about that time succeeded to a baronetcy and a tolerable for- tune. I remonstrated with the Marchioness upon her imprudence—to givo her conduct no harsher namo; and then bogan a serics of quarrels, dis- putes and bickerings, which made my life more wretched than ever. On ono of those occasions sho reproached me for having marricd her—and sho declared that sho never hud loved, and never could love me, Alas! I knew it but too well,—knaw also that she had loved, and still loved another | And it was likowise after ono of thoso disputes to which I havo alluded that.a horrible suspicion first . entored my mind—a suspicion that the Marchioness had been unfaithful to me, and that Agnes was not my own child.” “Oh! my lord—continoue this painful narrative no farthor!” exclaimed Trovelyan. “It shocks mo to bo thus mado tho depositary of secrets of so delicate a naturo {” “Again do I implore your paticnco, Lord Wil- liam,” cried the Marquis: “and as I have advanced thus far in my sad story, pormit mo to carry it on to the conclusion. I was observing, thon, that a dreadful suspicion seized upon me—and yet I dared not accuse my wifo of incontinency. She divined what was passing in the dopths of my tortured soul —she conjectured.the nature of tho apprehension which now began to haunt mo like a ghost! Oh! how I longed to question hor—to know tha worst —or to hear hor proclaim tho injustico of my suspicion: but, no—I dared not touch upon the subject—my tonguo clave to the roof of my mouth whenever I sought to framo the words that should accuso her. And in this manner did wo drag on a wretched existence,—I experiencing all the misery of having a young wife who could not love me—and sho fecling all the bitterness of her position in being allied to an old husband who had grown so jealous and so suspicious. At last the day came when all my ropugnance to utter the fatal accusa- gation suddenly vanished. I liad been more than ordinarily provoked—for at a dejeuner given at tho house of some friends, the Marchionoss received with such evidont satisfaction the marked atten- tions of Sir Gilbert Heathcote, that I felt myself insulted and outraged in the presence of tho ontire company. Accordingly, when we returned homo in the afternoon, a violeat scene took placo between the AMlarchionoss and myself; and it was then that, ina paroxysm of rage, I proclaimed tho suspicion which I had for somo time cherished—I accused her of infidolity—I revealed the doubt which existed in my mind relative to my paternal claims to tho affections of the infant Agnes. Novor—never shall 1 forget that memorablo day! The Marchioncss heard me—gazed on mo fixedly--appeared stupefied ee PT a NGS SS SS =” ES Ts SA TS SS TH MYSTERIES OF LONDON. 3955 countenance became palo as marble—hor lips qui- vered—and her bosom heayed convulsively. I was terrified at hor manner—sho appeared at that mo- ment to be Injured Innocence personified—J could have thrown myself at her foet and implored her pardon! But, ina thick and hollow voice, sho said, ‘Allis now at an end, my lord, between you and me? We part—for ever ?—A. dizziness came over me—I felt that I had dono wrong—that I had gone too far,—and I would have given worlds to be ablo to recall the fatal accusation! For I was now as firmly convinced of her innocence, as I had a few minutes before been deeply imbued with suspi- cion ;—and I cursed—I anathomatised the rashness that had marked my conduct. It was a painful—a distressing scene: for I remember that I fell upon my knees to implore her forgiveness—to beseech her to remain, if not for my sake, at least for that of tho child. But this appeal only excited her the moro: and when I adjured her in the namo of her infant daughter to stay, sho utterod a wild cry aud fled, as if suddonly seized with insanity, from tho house.” Here the Marquis paused for a few momonts, and passed his handkerchief rapidly ovor his eyes :—the reminiscences of the past wero still powerful enough to moro him to tears! “T shall not now dotain you long. my lord,” ho resumed. ‘* Whither my wife went, I knew not;— but in a short time I heard that sho was living in the strictest seclusion and under a foigned name. Will you not despiso mo whon you learn that I employed a spy to watch hor actions—to institute inquiries concerning her pursuits and her conduct ? But I will conceal nothing from you—and I can- didly admit that such was the courso which [ adopted: for, though I still believed that she was innocent up to the time when my abrupt accusa- tion drovo hor from tho house, I nevertholess natu- rally conjectured that, on thus quitting me, sho had sought the protection of him whom she loved. I was not therefore surprised to hear that Sir Gil- bert Heathcote was a frequent visitor at the abodo of Mrs. Sefton —by which namo she was now kuown :—but I was unable to glean any positive evidence of criminality on her part. And did I seek such ovidence? Yes—for a raging jealousy had taken possession of mo; and I longed to punish her for daring to lovo my rival as sho did! But as time passed on and sober reflection worked its in- fluence upon mo, I grow ashamed of the course I had adopted—and I now resolved to hush up to tho utmost of my power the unhappy position in which I stood with regard to my wife. For I already felt decply attached to my little daughter—and I deter- mined that, if human precautions could prevont such a misfortune, she should never bave to blush for 2 mother’s shame. I was strengthened in this resolve by tho fact that the Marchioness horsolf was disposed to shroud the past in secrecy as much as possible: elso wherefore the feigned name whick she had adopted, and the seclusion in which she dwelt? Butin the course of a fow months certain events transpired which threatened to lay bare to the public the whole of this most painful history. I.must explain myself more fully by stating that my wife’s father had made a will leaving some landed property to me, and which was to descend to the child or children that might spring from my m:4riage with his daughter. A distant male relativcYof his and astounded for nearly a minute,—whilo her | now set up a claim to that proporty; and 7 /oceod~ CON (SO)