Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

78 apartments. a marriage under such cir cumstances, —a marriage to take place i in a drawing-room where every article of furniture and every ornament, even to the most trifling nicknack, was ticketed for sale,—must at least be a singular if not an ominous spectacle ! The Bousteads paid their usual visit on this day: and his lordship, on seeing them to their carriage, was far more courteously polite than ever J had before observed him to be towards the capitalist and his family. As for Mr. Walter,—his bearing towards Euphemia was that of a polished gentle- man ; but cold, reserved, and constrained. How was it possible for it to be otherwise? It was verging towards sunset on that same day, that I walked forth alone through the grounds, —my services not being in any way required for an hour or two at the Hall. I had thus strolled to a distance of about a mile, wrapped up in my reflections,—when I observed a lady approaching from the direction of the road. As she drew nearer, I saw that she was young and beautiful. Her age could not have been more than one-and- twenty: she was tall and finely formed,—elegance and grace characterizing her whole appearance. Her hair was dark—her eyes of a deep blue: she looked pale—but not with a pallor that seemed natural. It was evidently the result of fatigue or care—perhaps both combined; and as I drew nearer, I likewise noticed that there was the glitter of suspense and uneasiness in those beau- teous eyes of her’s. She surveyed me very hard, as if she wished to speak: but as she did not itn. mediately address me, I passed her by. Having proceeded perhaps for twenty paces, wondering who she could be, and whether she was going to the Hall,—imarvelling likewise that she should be by herself, and on foot, at that time of the evening, as well as in so lonely a place,—I looked back. She was standing on the spot where I had passed her, gazing after me. I stopped short, hesitating whether to accost her with some question,— such as if sho had lost her way and was secking any particular destination P—when she beckoned me towards her. I hastened to obey the summons: but even when I accosted her, she still appeared uncertain what to say, or whether to speak at all. At length, with a visible effort, she put aside all farther hesitation; and observed, “ You are in the service of Lord Ravenshill ?” “T am, madam,” was my answer; “and if I could do anything to oblige you, I shall be truly happy.” Again she surveyed me with penetrating ear- nestness; and after a long pause she said ina tone of audible and perhaps involuntary musing, “Yes—I think I can trust you. Your appear- ance But will you do me a favour?” she asked, thus suddenly"interrupting herself: “and I will reward you liberally.” “JT do not need any reward, madam,” was my immediate response: “but whatsoever services I can render, you may command them.” “T see that I am not deceived in you,” the young lady observed: “you are evidently above your position. Do not think ill of me that I have thus addressed you still more, do not think ill of me for the favour I am about to solicit at your hands.” There was so much sweetness in her manner,— JOSEPH WILMOT; a OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. ee eae SSS! Ss Ah! methought the celebration of | so much kind yet perfectly lady-like and dignified cameinnaplinaedal oe a a een = eS Rae Ea etl oneal _ a i affability,—that I was much prepossessed on her behalf. She seemed uneasy, and even excited— as if hope and fear weve struggling in her bosom. “Tam certain not to think ill of you, madam,” T hastened to observe: “for I am confident you could enjoin me no task which I may not honour- ably and becomingly fulfil.” “At least promise me f¢his,’ she hastily ex- claimed,—“ that if when I have named my re- quest—which is a simple, though it may appear a strange one—you should have any scruples in eranting it, you will not breathe to a soul the circumstance that you have met me here, or that such a favour has been sought at your hands.” * Most faithfully do I give that promise,” was my rejoinder. She drew forth a note from a reticule which she carriedin her hand :—the hand too which held that note, trembled visibly; and I observed the blood mantle upon her cheeks—then vanish again as suddenly, leaving them by the contrast paler than they were before. Methought that some powerful inward struggle was taking place—a struggle perhaps between the prideful modesty of her sex, and some other as well as more tender feeling. She looked at the note and then at me: hesitation and reluctance marked her conduct. But again exhibiting a suddenness of decision, she said, “Will you undertake—with the least possible delay, and likewise with the strictest secrecy—to place this note in the hands of Mr. Ravenshill ?” “T will,’ was my prompt answer :—for I could not possibly conceive that I was doing wrong in complying with a request put by one so lady-like, so beautiful, and whose motives for her present proceeding were evidently of such importance as to struggle successfully against her innate sense of modesty. “Within an hour from the present time,” I went on to observe, “Mr. Ravenshill shall have this note—and no one shall see me give it him,” “Thanks—a thousand thanks!” answered the lady: then, with a renewal of her hesitating manner, she drew her purse forth from her reti- cule, saying, “ Shall I insult you if o “Not for the world will I accept the slightest reward!” I exclaimed. “Fear not that your errand will be unfaithfully or clumsily executed :”— and with these words I darted away in the direc- tion of the Hall. Looking back in the course of a few minutes, I perceived a post-chaise hastening along the road which bounded the park; and I therefore con- cluded it was this vehicle which had brought the lady thither, and in which she was now taking her departure. On I sped towards the mansion,— feeling as if I were the messenger of good tidings, but without having the slightest comprehension of what their nature could be. As I neared the Hall, I was much gratified on beholding Mr, Rayenshill himself issuing forth,—doubtless for the purpose of roaming in solitude and giving way without restraint to his mournful reflections. In a few minutes I was by his side; and as he stopped short abruptly, he doubtless saw by my features that I had something of epee to communicate. “What is it, Joseph?” he asked. “ Any new I (COUN CS ElNOOLKS (EO)