The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

am ¢ 24, “But, my dear Madame Angelique!” said the Duke; “in the first place I believe that Marion dislikes me—you remember I have complained to you of her refusal———-” “Mere coynesa on her part—or elee artifice and stratagem to render herself all the more acceptable when she might choose to surrender.” p “But there is another reason !” exclaimed the uke. “Ts this your friendship ?” cried Madame An- gelique, with a gteat show of indignation, and half atarting from her seat. “Do not ba angry !—we were but discussing the point-—” “ And it is no longer open for discussion. Take Marion or not, as you think fit,” continued the Frenchwoman: “but if you refuse, I shall know what value to set upon the friendship of your Grace.” . Marchmont bit his lip almost till the blood came: Madame Angelique’s look was resolutely decisive; and not daring to quarrel with her, he affected to laugh,—saying, “Well, well, I suppose, like all ladies, you must have your own way! So let it be the particular beauty whom you have thus allotted to me.” “Be it so: it is séttled, my lord,” replied Madame Angelique. “I have not the slightest doubt that Marion, who has been under the protec- tion of an Earl, will feel proud in the long run to own the tender friendship of a Duke-” There was a slight accent of sarcasm in the milli- ner’s tone: for she was avenging herself, as far as she thought fit, for the conduct of Marchmont in having duped her into becoming the instrament of his own designs, incomprehensible to the French woman though they were, in respect to Indora. The Duke, comprehending Madame Angelique’s meaning, again bit his lip with vexation: but bowing to conceal it, he issued from the room. On leaving the milliner’s house, the Duke of Marchmont walked slowly along the street, plunged in a deep and painful reverie. He had numerous sources of bitter vexation as well as of alarm ; and amongst the former the arrangement just made— or rather just enforced, in respect to Marion, was not the least. He knew that she had been the mistress of the Earl of Beltinge ; and he by no means relished the idea of taking up with that nobleman’s discarded paramour. The of keeping Marion entered not for a moment into his consideration: for he was wealthy enough to gratify any such fantasy if he had the inclination. But even in the sphere of vice and immorality, the haughty tone of aristocratic feeling prevails; and Marchmont winced at the idea that he, a Duke, should be compelled to take under his protection the cast-off mistress of an Earl. Were she the discarded paramour of a King, a Prince, or even & Royal Duke, it would have been different. Sach was the sensitiveness of a man who hesitated not to make a familiar companion of a woman like Madame Angelique, the keeper of a fashionable house of infamy,—a man too who would have plunged himself into crime to rid his path of an enemy, like Indora, who, as he had reason to believe, was by some means or another threatening his security. As the Duke of Marchmont was continuing his way slowly, and jn deep brooding thoughtfulness, _-~ - weap © THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. along the street, he encountered some one who } suddenly addressed him by name ;—and looking up, he beheld the Hon. Wilson Stanhope. “My lord, I greet you,’ said that unprincipled individual, in a tone of familiarity. “Ah! so you have returned from Paris?” ob. served the Duke, somewhat coldly. , ““Yea—where I am sorry to say,” responded Stanhope, “I fell in with persons who were cleverer than myself; and the consequence is I am as completely cleared out as ever an unfortunate devil was. I was just thinking to whom I could apply for a little friendly succour, when behold { fortune throws me in the way of your Grape.” “Then your pocket, I presume, is empty ?” said the Duke, speaking slowly and in a musing man- ner: for he was revolving in his mind something that hed just occurred to him. “So empty,” rejoined Stanhope, “that the in- troduction of such a thing as fifty guineas into that pocket of mine would be a veritable god-send. May I anticipate that for old acquaintance sake ——and you must remember, my lord, that if that affair with her Grace down at Oaklands ended in failure——” “It was not your fault, I admit,” returned the Duke: “ but you must also recollect that I gave you a liberal reward. Enough, however, on that point! . I think I can do something for you now. What would you say if I were to introduce. you to- morrow to a handsome suite of apartments—s beautiful girl already installed there as the genius of the scene—and with an account opened at a banker’s in your name to the extent of five hun- dred 3?” “T should say, my lord,” replied Stanhope, “ that it was a truly ducal manner in getting rid of a mistress of whom your Grace is tired—and that I am so overwhelmed by the favour I at once accept at.” “Then it is a bargain,” said Marchmont; “and here is an earnest thereof,” he added, slipping his purse into Stanhope’s hand. “Come to me to- morrow evening——But no! do not make your appearance in Belgrave Square——Dine with me at the Clarendon Hotel at seven o’clock—and after our wine I will conduct you to the little paradise where a houri’s arms will be open to receive u.’’ “TJ shall be punctual, my lord,” answered Wil- eon Stanhope. “But one word! Is not this great favour which you are showing me, the pre- lude to something else?” “What mean you?” inquired Marchmont: bat the tone in which the question was put, convinced Stanhope that his surmise was correct. “ Let me speak frankly, my lord,” he said. “I asked for fifty pounds—and you proffer me five hundred. Is this really nothing more than a re- compense for taking your cast-off mistress——” “On my soul, she is no mistress of mine!"’ in- terrupted the Duke. “Ihave seon her—I have joked with her—but never beyond such com- tonship has any familiarity been permitted by her. I have endeavoured———But enough! Suf:- fice it for you to know that she has been the mis- trees of Beltinge—that she is now at Madame . Angelique’s—and that to-morrow she will be in handsome apartments, ready to receive you.” “Goad, my lord!” ejaculated Stanhope. “Buf fn Sea bed am qa 2, EO DOO