The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 121: what you’re looking at

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166 Osseo ne questions,” replied Venetia, averting ber biushiag, glowing countenance, while the slow but deep heaving of her superbly-developed, bust evinced the agitation whioh prevailed within that bosom of inecsaparable grandeur. “Ah! dear lady,” exclaimed the Priace, drawing his chair closer towards her, “ you will not be cruel sowerds me—I am certain you will not! Werela humble individual, I should not have dared thes to | depend upon address you so hastily—so precipitately—within the frat few minutes of our acquaintance. But are well aware that I am an exceptional being having the leisure for all those protracted end that lengthened courtship, 20 to , which wader other circumstances would de eo cheerfully performed. Now, answer me answer me candidly, Venetia: are your affections already engaged?—do you love some happy and enviable young man?—is your heart bestowed upem one whose bride you hope to be 7” “TI have had many suitors, sir,” was the soft and marmuariog reply, as the richly-fringed lids droaped lower upog the melting blue orbs which they now amplitude of the lady's bosom seemed to swell as if each glowing globe must burst from the corset that imprisoned them. “You have had many suitors?” echeed the Prince, advancing his chair still nearer to the lovely woman, and speaking in the subdued but tremulous voice of profound passion : “bat you do wot tell me that any one of them has succeeded in obtaining an avowal from your lips? Then may + st “I have never loved, sir,” she observed, in a voice that was scarcely audible. “Can you love me?—will you love me?” asked the Prince, taking her hand, to withdraw which only a slight attempt was made—and then, feeling that he retained it in his own, she abandoned it to -his elasp. “ Youre aware, Venetia,” he continued ia that deep veice of masculine harmony which gave such pewer to his insidious language, “ that I dare not speak to you of marriage. But the mistress of a Prince—a Prince Regent, who will some day be a King—is far above the wife of the preudest peer in Christendom. You know that I am speaking the trath, Venetia,” he said, his tenes becoming more melting—the pressure of his hand more fervid; “and you are too sensible not to be aware that the lady on whom I bestow my love will enjoy all honour, distinction, and respect in the highest circles of fashion. Yes, Venetia— consent to be mine—mine so far as love can render you mine—and I promise you eternal fidelity, I have been deemed fickle and inconstant: but I am not so in reality. The trath is that hitherto where beauty has charmed me at first, vanity and shallow-mindedness have disgusted me afterwards. I have been dazzled by the charms of many women: but few have d those mental qualities which fix the impression and render in- delible the effect originally produced by the graces of the person. With you it js different. Not only are you as lovely as perfect loveliness can make you,—not only do your external charms excel aught in the form of female beauty that ever met my eyes before,—but you are endowed with those luteliectual attractions that rivet the affection Le ee a ya geese Slysshe-wessersenpeeneerseeenesoe THE MYSTERIES OF THR COCRY. which your charms inspire. Your couversation must ever please—your cpinicus upon all topies must be valuable—and ycur temper cannot fail to be endearing, 98 your wit is calculated to sustain and invigorate the herithy cheerfulness of the soul. You see that I understand your character and your disposition well, Venetia: end if you will permit me to enjoy the disposal of your happiness, it that I shall ever consult your wel- fare to the extent of my abilities. Answer me, then, Venetia—answer me, dear girl—and tell mc whether you will consent to be mine upou these terms 7” While the Prince Regent was thus speaking, the colour went and came upon Venetia’s damask countenance: but every time the warm biood rushed back to those cheeks so soft and yet so firm, they glowed with a deepeniog dye. And the superb bosom rose and sank with quicker heavings —while her rich red lips remained apart, as i breathing the mute sweets to which her tongue refased verbal utterance: so that nothing could exceed the charm of this soft languor and subdued voluptuousness of beanty. “ Venetia, did you hear me ?—will you be mine?” asked the Priace, gently moving from the chair to the sofa, on which he placed himself by her side, atill retaining her soft plamp hand in his own—thas hand which trembled as he pressed it ! “ But if I were to answer you in the affirmative,” she said, in a soft billing tone, as she huag down her head so as to conceal her countenance from the looks which she felt as it were to be fixed upoa her with all the ardour of passion,—“ would you not think the worse of me for being so hasty—so precipitate ——” “ Not more than you must think so of me,” re- turned the Prince, already foreseeing that hi triumph was assured: and he gently passed his left arm round her waist, while his right hand stil retained herown. “ Tell me, then, dear Venetia— keep me not in suspense—-—will you be mine ?” “I will,” she anawered, in a voice that was not louder than the whispering sephyr: “I will be thine—thine “ Dearest, dearest Venetia” exclaimed his Royal Highnesa, now seizing her as it were with all the devouring avidity of passion and straining her ia his arms. He pressed his lips to her's and drank in the fragrance of her breath. Never, Oh! never to him, experienced in all sensuous delights though he were, had woman's lips appeared so sweet—so ripe—eo lascious, with their dewy moistare! Then he imprigted a thousand kisses upon her cheeks and her forehead—and then his caresses recarred to those delicious lips again! Thence they wan~ dered to the sloping shoulders, so white—so plump —eo warm; aad her luxuriant hair felt soft as velvet agsinet his cheek. His passion became almost ungovernable; it appeared a dream—a veritable dream that he could so soon have reached the threshold of paradise,—he who had entered that room but an hour previously as a stranger, save by name, to its charming inmate! Bat it was assuredly no dream as his lips wandered kissingly from that luscioes mouth te those damask, glowing cheeks,—from those cheeks where the blood mah- tled hotly, to the.shoulders whose polished surface was catching the crimson thence back COMME OG Ss CO _) =>