The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 341: what you’re looking at

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

nmr ne SD A SC ESSE NI Pie Baan 330 ! i tear 1 am dying, sir,” replied the old man. “ But for God's sake, don’t let me be taken to the station or the workhouse! Give me a morsel of | THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. were in handsome liveries—and a coronet appeared above the arms painted on the panels. “I hope that nothing is amiss, my lord?” said food—and perhaps I shall be able to drag myself Dr. Ferney, in reply to the visitor's somewhat ex. jaculatio along somewhere.” “Do you know anything about him?” inquired the doetor of the constables: for with every iziclina- tion to assist the wretched object before him, he cited 6} ns. “ Can you come with me at once?” demanded the subleman. “Her ladyship —" “Not another word is nedessary, my lord. I was well aware of the tricks played by street- will come directly:"—and the physician, putting on to both of whom Dr. Ferney was well known. “ We saw him fall down suddenly, and at first thought he was drunk: but it doesn’t seem so.” “Well, the poor old man shall not be suffered to perish in the streets,” saad the physician; “and he seems tu have a horror of the only places to which you could take him.” — “TI have indeed, wr,” said the object of the doctor's sympathy. and though brought low, I may call myself respecta- ble. Of courve theeb rags do not seem to confirm my words,” he added with a degree of bitterness : “but it in so, nevertheless.” Dr. Ferney saw that the poor old man had really a respectable look, despite his miserable garb; and moreover he spoke like a decently educated person, and in atone of sincerity. Ferney accordingly directed the policemen to lead him into his:house; and opening the door with the latch-key, he gave them admittance. The old man was borne into the dining-room, where he was deposited upon the sofa; and the officers took their departure. The servants had long been in bed: but Dr. Ferney hastened to procure refreshments, which he set before the object of hie generosity. A giass of wme aided to revive the unfortunate old man, who poured forth his gratitude, not in the snivelling, whining tones of a canting hypocrite, but with the genuine sincerity of one who felt the immensity of the obligation he awed to a benefactor. “Come,” said the doctor, “ you are better now— and a good night's rest will help to restore you. To-morrow you shali tell me a little more about your ciroumstances; and I will see if- anything can be done for you. At all events, you shall not go away in those tattere—nor yet with on ompty pocket.” The old man shed tears as the doctor thus ad- dressed him: he endeavoured to speak again, but could not—for he was overpowered by his emotions. Dr. Ferney conducted him to a bed-room, and leav- ing him there, was about to ascend to his own chamber, when a loud and inpatient koock at the front door sounded through the dwelling. The physiaan was by no means unaccustomed to be summened at any hour in the night; therefore without waiting to let the footman get up and aoswer the knock, he at once hurried down stairs again and opened the street-door. “ Ab, doctur, you are up! So much the better,” aid the visitor, who was a tall, aristocratic looking man, about thirty-six years of age, and remarkably hantisome,—with a noble facial outline of the true Roman type. “E bave seen somewhat better days; his hat, followed the nobleman into the carriage, postors. “ No, ar—nothing,” replied one of the policemen, | which immediately drove away. The personage by whose side Dr. Ferney now found himself seated, was the Earl of Castlemaine ~—a nobleman possessed of great wealth, bat re- puted to be of somewhat singular character and poceatric habits. He was matried, and dwelt with his wife in a spacious and splendid mansivn at Kensington. He was several years older than her ladyship, who was not above twenty-three, aud of great beauty. They had no children; and it was whispered tha! they lived somewhat unhappily to- gether. Indeed Dr. Ferney, who was their phya- sian, had every reason to believe that this rumour was based upon truth: for he was well aware that for the last three or four years they had occupied separate chambers. Nevertheless, during the day- time they were as much together as husband and wife usually are in the higher circles: that is to say, they wok their repasts together—they were ac- casionally seen riding out in the same carmage—and they likewise appeared together m society. The Karl of Castlemaine was a man of reserved, and even moody disposition,—habitually taciturn, end with a countenance which, thouzh eo hands me, was nevertheless inscrutable in ite expression: so that in those moments when he appeared gayer than at other times, it was difficult for an observer to determine whether this gaieiy were sincere—and in his taciturn moods it was equally impossible to obtain e clyw to what was passing in his mind. His habite were regular—his character was re- ported to be unimpeachable—his servants considered him to be a good master: but amongst persons of hisown rank and standing, although he had plenty of acquaintances, he had no friends. That is to say, he did not seek to cultivate the friendship of any one; and the inscrutable singularity of his character prevented others from endeavouring to form a close intimacy with him. Although it was thus whispered that Lord and Lady Castlemaine lived not together upon the hap- piest terms, yet no aspersiun was thrown on the character of the latter. Mor conduct appeared to be marked with the strictest propriety: she nevor dis- played t-e slightest levity, and though she went into society, yot it rather sepmed as if i were is fulfilment of one of the inevitable conditions uf ber rank and position, than beca se she had any taste for the frivelous gaict-es ard hollow pleasures | of fashionable life. She never daneed—never joined | those who were seated at the card-tabies—but she | would play on the piano or the harp, when re quested ; her voice. She waea beautiful musician, and sang th a delicious sweetness,—in which a kind of A carriage, from which this individual had just | melancholy pathos was invariably blended with the and accompany either instrument wists | ahghted, was waiting opposite the door. shed horace were splendidly caparisoned— the coach- span and two ‘footmen belonging to the equipege, | harmony of a voice of a perfect contralto—but a contralto that was cleude! as i" coining frum e throat accustomed to stifle end kecp dows _ \ a — ° ew —ws —- L ew wows ire ap _ += oa eo — = NOOK