The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 378: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON. trol within reasonable bounds the emotions that acitated in his breast. Sho arrival of ‘Trevelyan, however, promised to relieve him of at least one cause of suspense and anxiety ; and, the moment the young nobleman en- tcred the apartment, the Marquis rushed precipi- tately forward to meet him. “In pursuance of my promise,” said Lord Wil- liam, when the usual compliments were interchanged; “T called upon her ladyship—Tirs. Sefton, I mean: yesterday—and had a long interview with her.” “And the result?” demanded the Marquis, im- patiently. “T regret to state that, after all I heard upon tho occasion, I cannot either recommend tho withdrawal of Lady Agnes from her mother’s charge, or inter- fero any farther in this family matter,” responded the voung nobleman. “Mrs. Sefton will see Sir Gilbert Heathcote no more, and will devoto herself to that maternal care which she is so well qualified to bestow upon hor daughter.” “Then, my lord,” exclaimed tho Marquis, impe- tuously, “I shall at once appeal to the tribunals of my country for that redress which I ought to havo demanded long ago.” “Pardon me, my lord,” said Trevelyanu, “ for re- minding you that there is much to be considered ere you put-this threat into execution. By giving pub- licity to your unhappy family-affairs, you may to some extent act injuriously to the welfare of your daughter.” “True{” ejaculated the old nobleman, struck by the observation. “ And yet am I to remain quiet and tranquil beneath this additional wrong which is thus thrust upon me by her who in law is still my wife ?” ‘For your daughtor’s sake you must endure it— |. if a wrong it indeed be,” answered Trevelyan solemnly, ‘Aud Agnes—has sho learnt the secret of her birth ?—does sho cling to her mother, in preference to mo ?—does she devote nota single thought to the father who has ever behaved with so much tonder- ness towards hor?’ demasded the Marquis. “ Re- ply, my lord, to all these quostions.” “Your daughter still believes herself to be plain Miss Agnes,” was the answer; “and she is not taught to forget her father.” “But what must she think of the strango circum- stance, that while she believes herself to bo the bearcr of her father’s name of Vernon, her mothor is known by that of Sefton ?” asked the nobleman. “She has adopted the latter name, as a natural consequence of her restoration to the maternal parent,” was the reply; “but her pure and artless mind cherishes not the curiosity which, in ordinary cascs, Would prompt many questions relative to all theso points. Sho imagines, generally, that parti- cular causes of unhappiness have led to the separa- tion of her parents, and that the adoption of different names was the necessary resnit. For the rest, believe mo that she will be well cared for by hor mother, and that she will never be tutored to think of you otherwise than with respect and gratitude.” “Is she happy with her mother—bhappior than she was in hor own-cottasge, under my care?” in- quired the Marquis, after a long pause, during which he seemed to reflect deeply. “She is happy, my lord,’ responded -Trevelyan: butI will not aver that she is 4 r than sho 373 was. She thinks of you constantly—speaks of you often——” “Then I will do nothing that shall interfere with her tranquillity—nothing that shall bring into tho light of publicity those circumstances that would givo hor so much pain,” interrupted the Marquis, who, though sensual, jealous, and imperious in dis- position,—though addicted to pleasures of a profli- gate description, — was novertholess characterised by many lofty feelings and generous sentiments, as indeed the whole tenour of his conduct towards Agnes had fully proven. Lord William Trevelyan thanked him for the assurances which he had just given, and sl:ortly afterwards took his leave, highly rejoiced at tho manner in which the interview had terminated. It must be observed that the passion which tho Marquis of Delmour had formed for Laura Morti- mer and the hope which he entertained of speedily possessing her as his mistress, had ina slight de- gree diminished the intensity of his anxiety to re- cover Agnes; inasmuch as his arrangements in respect to Laura had not only served to occupy his mind—abstract his thoughts somowhat from tho contemplation of the loss of his daughter — and hold forth the promise of a solace to be derived from the society of that lovely creature whose un- accountable silence nevertheless tormented him sadly. The day passod—and still no communication arrived. Let it be remembered it was on this solf-same day that Laura and the Count were marricd; and it was during the following night that Mrs. Mortimer met her dreadful death in the manner already described. The ensuing morning found the Marquis paiv, agitated, and racked by a thousand anxious fears, amongst which jealousy was often uppermost as he revolved in hig mind all the possible reasons that could account for the protracted silence of the young lady. He sate down to breakfast for form’s sake—but ate nothing. Never did his gilded saloons appear more desolate—more lonely ;—and yet it was not to thom that ho had contemplated bringing his beau- tiful mistross ! Presently tho morning papere were laid upon the table; and mechanically casting his eyes over one of them, he observed a short article, headed “ DIABOLICAL OUTRAGE AHDF RIGHTFUL DEATH.” He commenced the perusel of the account; and the apathy with which he began, speedily changed into the most intense interest: for the article ran thus:— “ Last night, shortly after the hour of twelve, the inhabitants of Westbourne Place and the immediate neighbourhood wero thrown into the greatest alarm by the sudden outburst of the most dreadful scream- ing, as of a female in mortal agonics. These ter- rific sigus of distress appeared to emanate from a narrow lane, passing by the side of a beautiful villa in the occupation of the Count and Countess of Carignano, who, it appears, had been married in the morning, and had only entered their new abode immediately after the ceromony. His lordship, attended by his valet, los< no time in descending to the succour of the afflicted person, whoever it might be; and they discovered an olderly lady in tho agonics of death. They conveyed her into the villa, whero, to the horror of the Count and hig lovoly (C(O) (C DOO <S LL (SO)