Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

—-— ower EEO DEI ee me + eet ee ee = | ewe + wer we ed on et tem eee rene > i eat rr o2 nally of superior things. Yes—TI was shocked; ard I was turning away with even a sense of loathing, when she suddenly spoke to one of the carpenters, giving utterance to a coarse jest In a hoarse broken voice. Still more was the illusion dispelled. I hurried on, plunging farther behind the scenes, with the sickening idea in my soul that such as this wretched creature now seemed, might Annabel soon become—unless snatched away from the health-wasting, soul-contaminating avocations and influences amongst which destiny appeared to have cast her. But all in a moment I stopped short: for, on the opposite side of the stage—lean- ing against a piece of scenery—appeared the object of my presence there. JOSEPH WILMOT: And now my soul was suddenly smitten with | OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT,. beheld her in discourse with that young man, I should have sprung forward and caught her in my arms, unmindful of whosoever might have beheld the action. I had been standing there some three or four minutes, thus gazing upon her, and while that conversation was progressing in its hushed tones, —when Sir Malcolm Wavenham, suddenly prof- fered his hand. She shook her head: I marked that an expression of annoyance, of mingled pride and anger appeared upon his features: then he said something about “altering her mind” and “letting him know to-morrow.” This was all I could catch; and he turned abruptly away. She remained standing there with her looks bent down, and in an attitude of extreme pensiveness. While another blow. She was listening, with a sort of |my eyes for a moment followed the retreating half-bashfulness, half-pleasure upon her counte-| form of the young Baronet, as he traversed the nance, to something that a young gentleman was whispering in her ear; and this young gentleman I at once recognised to be Sir Maleolm Wavenham —a gay and profligate Baronet who had only recently come into a very large fortune, and who was a frequent visitor at Charlton Hall. But the moment after this suspicion, so injurious to An- nabel, had entered my mind, I felt how ungene- rous it was; and I strove to banish it: for I said to myself that 1 was not because Sir Malcolm was a dissipated rake, she must necessarily be giving him encouragement, And, indeed, scarcely had I thus conceived this thought in her fayour, when I observed that she suddenly drew herself up in a dignified manner, and made some remark, which however I could not catch at that distance, but which struck me as being accompanied with a look of indignation. A feeling of joy warmed my heart: it was an infinite relief to the cruel suspicion which but a few moments back had sprung up there. Still, however, the conversation went on between herself and Sir Maleolm Wavenham; and I heard him say, “ But, my dear Miss Mortimer, a young | 3? lady of your beauty Then she interrupted him, raising her finger to her lip: I thought and hoped it was to imply that she was not to be addressed in so familiar a man- ner, nor in such terms of flattery. But still the discourse went on, again continued in a hushed voice on the part of the Baronet, and listened to by her with the downcast eyes of bashfulness, yet with a certain animation of the cheeks,—an ani- mation deeper and more natural than the artificial rose which had slightly covered them. Oh! I thought to myself—why, Annabel—Oh, why listen longer to that man at all? And young though I was, I had no difficulty in suspecting that his aims and hopes were neither creditable to himself nor honourable to her. It was therefore with a reviy- ing anguish of heart that I gazed upon that sym- metrical form of sylphid shape, yet giving promise of fulness in its proportions ;—I gazed, too, upon that countenance which my mind had so faithfully treasured up: but I could not now catch the sweet azure eyes—for they were bent down; and the long silken lashes, so many shades darker than the lustrous flood of her golden hair, reposed upon her cheeks. She had not as yet observed that I was near: she had not caught a glimpse of me, Oh! what would she think—what would she say, if raising her eyes, they suddenly turned to rest upon me? Ah! I said to myself, that if I had not thus al stage towards the same door by which I had en- tered, —I noticed that one of the scene-shifters jerked his thumb significantly over his shoulder towards Violet Mortimer; and then in the same meaning manner, he indicated Wavenham, —his leering look having a corresponding expression ; and the companion for whose behoof he accom- plished this dumb-show, gave a coarse chuckling laugh. Good heavens! I thought to myself, that Annabel—the pure-minded, chaste-souled Annabel, as I had known her—should have become the object of the ribald significancy of these coarse men! Again I felt coming over me that sickening sensation which had seized me in the gallery; but she—the object of my presence here—was at the moment about to move away; and darting across the stage, I stood before her. Oh! now I was destined to experience another shock. She drew herself up with a kind of hauteur, and looked so coldly upon me yes, so coldly with her beau- tiful azure eyes, that I was confounded. But this overpowering sense quickly fled; and in a yoice fraught with a full gush of feeling, I said, “ Anna- bel!” She started—Oh, how she started, as if electrified! And, strange, as well as painful indeed, was the look which she bent upon me,—not cold and haughty now, but full of a mournful tenderness; and how ineffably, how pathetically sweet! * Annabel—dear Annabel!” I said murmuringly as I caught her hand in my own: “you know not what pleasure and what pain I experience to meet you now !” She burst into tears—drew back her hand with a sudden spasmodic violence—and the next moment disappeared from my view. I remained rooted to the spot like one annihilated. Darkness seemed to have suddenly sprung up where brightness had reigned an instant before. It was like a dream. [I felt bewildered: my brain was turning. Suddenly re covering the power of movement, I hurried in the same direction where she had disappeared ;—and I speedily became involved amidst a perfect maze of ropes, windlasses, spars, beams, and all kinds of theatrical machinery. * Now then, youngster—where are you rushing to ?”? demanded a gruff voice. “ Here—stand back!” said another rough-looking individual, seizing me by the shoulder: and then a huge scene glided in front of me—so that I was quite bewildered and knew not which way to pro- ceed, Comicaoolks Cc (©)