The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 110 an ee eew ee > onward with a lighter heart to his own residence, (as the only prop upon which the proud title of which was at no very great distance. Saxondale now rested. For there was no other But as William Deveril entered the hall of a| direct male het. to that title known to exist; and beautiful little villa which he thus occupied in the | if Edmund died, the title would become extinct and neighbourhood of the Regent’s Park, a charming | the estates would devolve to a very distant relative creature of angelic beauty came forth from the ! owning a ducal rank, and in which the title of Saxon- parlour to welcome him, and even to chide him | dale would consequently be merged and lost. We will affoctionately for being so late. Who was this} not now pause to describe all Lady Saxondale had beautiful creature that thus showed herself so | suffered on perceiving the gradual development of anxious for his return, and whum he embraced so | Edmund's evil qualities as he grew up: but we will fondly as he made some excuse for his lateness? content ourselves with observing that if she could Ah! from this mystery we cannot at present draw | not love him, she nevertheless cherished him as the the vcil—even though it were to relieve the reader | only hope of perpetuating the family into which she from uncertainty as to whether William Deveril ; had married and of which she was so proud. had that day pledged an undivided love to Florina; This was Lady Saxondale’s ambition The same Staunton. explanations may likewise account for her apparently premature anxiety to make such matrimonial ar- rangements on behalf of Edmund, as would provide him with a wife the moment he should come of age. Hence the selection of Lady Florina,—a highborn though portionless damsel, whose relations and friends Nornine@ could exceed the rage and disappoint- | had been too willing toassent to her prospective saeri- ment of Lady Saxondale at the rebuff she had ex- | fice to tho sickly, ill-conditioned, and evil-minded perienced from William Deveril. We must inform | Lord Saxondale. It was now the aim of hor ladyship’s the reader that from the very first moment he com- ' ambition to see Edmund married and behold male menced giving leseons to the Miss Farefields, at issue springing from the union, so that she might he Saxondale House, several months back, her ladyship assured of the perpetuation of the race of Saxon- had conceived a strange and irresistible attachment dale. With this ambition constituting as it wore towards that handsome young man. At the begin- , the aim of her existence, it was not likely that such ning Lady Saxondale had endeavoured to put away | @ woman would be easily accessible to the more ten- this feeling, with as much calm confidence that she . der sentiment of love. She was too worldly-minded would succeed in doing so as if she were divesting to be thus sensitive. But had she not passions? herself of a garment which though fitting some- | Yes: but she had also the pride that enabled her te what tight she had no doubt of being able to lay ‘ control them. She had not remained virtuous for aside: but insensibly that attachment grew upon the love of virtue: but because she was too prudent her; and though sho was long ere she would admit and too cautious to endanger her proud position in CHAPTER XXVL THE FADRBICATION. this circumstance to herself, yet sho could not help at last opening her eyes deliberately to the fact that sne really loved William Deveril. It was perfectly truc that Lady Saxondale struggled long and painfully against this growing passion: true also that it acquired a power greater than her own faculty of resistance. Wo may like- wise observe that she had spoken with equal truth when informing Deveril that she had never loved before. The reader is well aware that she had not! marricd old Lord Saxondale fur love; and that though she had been true and fuithful to him—had . treated him with kindness—and had therefore made him a good wife, she had never experienced for him any soutiment beyond those of friendship and gra- titude. At his death, though left a young, beautiful, and rich widow, she had never thought of changing her condition—simply because out of tho many offers which sho received, not one was made by any | individual of a rank so much superior to her own as to make her wish to aspirc toit. As for love, she encountered no one capable of inspiring her with that sentiment. Thus remaining single, she had pursued only one idea—and thts was her ambition. She looked upon herself with pride and satisfaction as having been the means of perpetuating the race of Saxondale in a direct linc from her husband, and in having rescued the coronet and estates from the grasp of a profligate and unprincaipled man in the person of Ralph Farefield. Her aunbition had thercfore been, from the time of her husband’s death, to rear Edmund Saxondale—to watch over him with the most zcalous care—and to cherish him — the world. She had not remained chaste through any genuine sentiment of fominine purity ; but be- cause she did not choose to risk the consequences of an intrigue. ‘Chus, when she bad found her pas- sions rebelling, she had subdued them ; and when tempted by the overtures of the gallant and the dissipated in the world of fashion, she had risen su- perior to such temptations—not because she pos- sessed a virtue that recoiled from them, but because she was too proud to compromise herself by succumb- ing to them. Such had been the history of Lady Saxondalo’s life from the period of her husband’s death until that when she met ‘Villiam Deveril. For nineteen years had she remained inaccessible to love or to temptation : and now she not only experienced love, but invited temptation by becoming herself the temptress! Severcly and painfully, we repeat, had she struggled against this passion which she felt for Deverl: but at length she found that it was con- suming her. She had endeavoured to avoid meet~- ing him when he came to the house to give lessons to her daughters ; but an irresistiblo impulse would urge her to the room where she might see him. She had struggled to banish his image from her mind: as vainly might she have essayed to roll back with her hand the mighty volume of water which the Thames pours intw the sea at the time of its ebb. The strength of her mind gradually gave way in this one respect: namely, the irresistible passion she experienced for Deveril. She felt at last that she must avow this love of her’s to hin— if such a passion deserved the name of love at al): ElOOO | | (CO