Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 63: what you’re looking at

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50 JOSEPH WIILMOT ; and actresses appeared to be magnificently dressed, —the former likewise having the air of the hand- somest of men, and the latter that of the loveliest of women. Charles saw how much I was delighted ; and comprehending the effect which tinsel and other theatrical delusions were making upon my mind, he smiled and whispered a few words of ex- planation,—letting me into the secret of what stage-apparel was, and how rouge and other suc- cedaneous contrivances invested ugliness with attractions. » Still I was pleased; and I asked which of those beautiful ladies was Miss Violet Mortimer P—but on referring to the play-bill, Charles informed me that she would not appear till the third scene, when the dance of the fairies on the shore of the haunted lake would take place. The first and second scenes were terminated ; and when the curtain ascended upon the third, the stage, darkened into semi-obseurity, represented a lake the banks of which were fringed with trees. The manner in which the water—or what served as water—appeared to send forth its glimmering twilight shine, struck me as being peculiarly effective. Indeed, Charles himself—though dis- posed to he hypercritical on the occasion — admitted that it was very well managed for a pro- vincial theatre. The music began to play a low but not melancholy strain: it was to represent a cheerful harmony sweetly floating over the lake in the distance. Then, from either side of the stage, the fairies came gliding on,—looking most ravish- ingly beautiful with their licht gauzy dresses, their azure wings, and their long hair floating over their bare shoulders. They held in their hands wands tipped with stars; and these gelittered brightly with the reflection of the stage-lights that were hidden from the view. Moreover,—to enhance the delusion that these star-tipped wands them- selves sent forth that soft argentine lustre which pervaded the scene,—a cold silvery light was by some contrivance shed from the sides of the stage. Altogether the scene was most effective. Again I asked which was Violet Mortimer ?—but scarcely was the question put, and before it was answered, several voices exclaimed rapturously, “‘ Here she is !’—and as another figure glided quickly in, with magically glancing feet, upon the stage, thunders of applause burst forth. But, good heavens! was it a shock of wonderment which seized upon meP or was if an overpowering sensation of pleasure which I at the moment experienced? Could it indeed. be possible that in Violet Mortimer I recog- nised the loved and cherished Annabel ? —_—————<-» CHAPTER XII. BENIND THE SCENES. I po not know whether an ejaculation expressive of my feelings burst. from my lips—but I think not: I believe that whatever those feelings were, they must have stricken me _ speechless ; — for neither Charles Linton nor any other person near me, observed that I displayed an unusual emotion, beyond that oftpleasure and delight which appeared to animate ail present. Violet acknowledged with a graceful curtsey the enthusiastic reception which np eee OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. she thus experienced; and then, as the applause died away, the fairy dance commenced. I sat rivetted to my place—my looks fascinated—all my feelings spell-bound. "Was it indeed she? Yes— how could I doubt it? Could I possibly mistake that tall, sheht, beautifully-modelled figure, whose every motion was poetry and seemed to correspond with the harmony of the features ? could I mistake those clustering masses of golden hair which floated over her shoulders, like a thick veil of glossy silk thrown back? Did any other being on the face of the earth possess that brilliant anima- tion of the skin—alabaster everywhere, save in respect to the coral lips, and where art appeared to have shed upon the cheeks the hue of the blush- ing roseP What other creature in female shape was endowed with so rare a beauty? And that firure, too, which seemed almost aerial—so that one might imagine that if the hands clasped the tapering waist the fingers would meet, and the slightest upward impulse would serve to whirl her up into that ethereal region whence, with the azure wings upon her shoulders, she appeared to have come down! I was too remote to catch the expression of her countenance; and yet the longer I gazed, the more was I enabled to picture to myself that mild look which Annabel wore, now somewhat elevated from its soft sweet melancholy into an animation bordering upon radiance. For some minutes I was so entranced with mingled wonder and delight, that I was unable to analyze my own thoughts,—until I began to expe- rience a painful under-current of feeling creeping in unto my soul. That Annabel should be there, naturally gave birth to the supposition that she must have fled from her home—and perhaps on account of me! How, otherwise, could she—the pure-minded, the ingenuous, the virtue-loving Annabel—have been thrown by destiny into the midst of a company of performers? how else could she have been driven into a pursuit which I should have deemed the last in all the world to be volun- tarily sought by her, compelling her as it were to leap with a sudden bound from the seclusion of her recent existence into the dazzling, wildering, intoxicating blaze of popular favourP Was it really Annabel—that Annabel whom but a few months back I had known as the personification of charming goodness—the retiring maiden invested with the candour of sweet fifteen? Alas, alas! it must be I—and I alone—who had proved the cause of this woudrous—and not less painful than wondrous—change in her circumstances! Such were the reflections which, after beginning with a gradual creeping to enter my mind, poured in like a trooping crowd, and surged up as it were into my very brain. But still I sat and gazed upon her as she led the fairy dance by the side of the haunted lake. Yes: every motion was in itself music,—so that the real music which was playing failed to be observed, and whatsoever harmony pervaded within those walls, seemed to be the effluence of a lovely form expending its spiritualized feeling in movements of the animal frame. Slowly began that dance—it grew more rapid—but I be- held only one of the dancers. On her my looks were rivetted: not for a single instant did they wander away from her: not for a moment did they settle elsewhere. Her exquisite figure seemed quickened by the etherealizing spirit into outlines | --_ aS OOO) (CO) im