The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THB OOURT. nont offered as a recompense for his foul treachery, cid I accept! But I was about to speak of Marion. It would be difficult to conceive a more lovely creature: she is indeed exquisitely beauti- ful—and her beauty bas proved her ruin. Two years ago the aunt who had adopted her, died sud- denly; and the property which she intended Marion to inherit, was swept away into the pos- session of strangers, through some informality in the will of the deceased. I recommended Marion to obtain a situation as a governess—for which her accomplishments fitted her. She went into a family in that capacity; but in a short time she became the victim of a seducer. This was the Earl of Beltinge; and with him she lived until very recently. I thought all the while—or at least until some weeks back—that she was still in hor position as a governess: for her letters gave mean assurance to that effect. On leaving the service of the Duchess of Marchmont, I went to seo my sister: but instead of finding her living as @ preceptress in a respectable family, I found her luxuriating in the gilded infamy which at once proclaimed itself to my comprebension. Then, in the agony of my mind, I revealed everything which related to myself—told her how I had like- wise fallen, though heaven knows through no fault of mine!—and told her likewise who was the author of my ruin. Then I came hither.” Amy ceased suddenly; and Christian, much pained by the narrative which he had just heard, said in a gentle voice, “I fear from the manner in which you broke off, that you have nothing to add in respect to penitence and reformation on the part of your erring sister ?”” “ Alas, nothing |’ responded Amy Sutton. “So far from seeking to turn into a better path, Marion has taken adownward step in the cnreer which she is pursuing. The Earl of Beltinge discovered that she was faithless to him; and in a moment he discarded her. Yes—mercilessly, though perbaps his severity was justifiable enough, he turned her adrift into the streets,—stripping her of every valuable and costly gem with which he had pre- sented her during the time she was under his pro- tection. What resource had she? The unfortu- nate girl found her way to a house of fashionable infamy, which is not altogether—at least in one sense —unknown to you.” “To meP” ejaculated Christian, in the most un- feigned astonishment: and then with a look of indignation, he said, “I can assure you, Miss Sutton——” “TI did not mean to offend nor to insult you,” responded the young woman. “Tbe fashionable house of infamy to which I allude, is that same Madame Angelique’s——” “Ah, I comprehend!” cried Christian,—“ the place where those dresses were made, the diabolical yee of which so nearly proved fatal to the charac- ter of the Duchess of Marchmont!” “The same,” Amy replied: “for the avocation of a dresamaker has been for years carried on by Madame Angelique, asa blind for the loathsome traffic which she pursues behind the scenes.” “ Aad yet the Duchess herself patronized her at one time,” observed our hero. “ Yes—but in total ignorance of the real cha- vacter of that house,” rejoined Amy; “and in the same manner Madame Angelique has had many 85 lady customers who knew not the vile nature of the woman whom they thus patronized. But as £ was telling you, Marion betook herself to that abode of fashionable infamy,—where she dwelt for a short time. There she occasionally met Marche mont; and he, little suspecting that she was my sister, made overtares, which of course she inva- riably rejected. She left that house the day before yesterday. I have received a letter from her this morning: she tells me that she is now under the protection of a man whose name was at once fami- liar to me, and will be familiar enough to you. I mean Wilson Stanhope.” “The villain!” ejaculated Christian. “TI have more reasons than one for loathing and abborring that unprincipled man! He grosely insulted my sister—he lent himeelf, as you are aware, to the iniquitous designs of the Dnke of Marchmont—~ and he insulted one likewise,” added our hero, thinking of his well-beloved Isabella, “ who is as dear to me as that affectionate and cherished sister to whom I have just alluded.” “Yes: Marion,” continued Amy, “ is now under the protection of that man; and singular enough is it that through the Duke of Marchmont’s agency this change in her circumstances has been brought about. I am as yet unacquainted with all the particulars: Marion had not time to describe them yesterday—she will write to me again to-day —and to-morrow I shall know all.” “But is it possible,” exclaimed Christian, shocked at the impression which Amy’s state- ment had just left upon his mind, “that your sister can accept boons at the hands of him who has done such foul wrong unto yourself ?” Amy Sutton did not immediately answer our hero’s question: but she looked at him hard io the face with a peculiar expression—and then said, “The unfortunate Marion is not eo deeply depraved, nor so lost to every good feeling, that she is indifferent enough to her sister's wrongs as to accept favours from the author of them. No, Mr. Ashton! She will succour me in the pursu- ance of my revenge, if opportunity may serve; and from something which she hints in her letter, there is a chance that her services may prove thus available. But, Oh! if Marion could but be reclaimed ——it is this that dwells in my mind! And now, after all I have told you of the degra- dation of my sister, and with your knowledge of my own shame and dishonour, I ask what have I worth living for—unless it be for revenge—and wherefore should I continue to cling to life when once that revenge is accomplished ?” Christian endeavoured to reason with the young woman in a proper manner: but she was deaf to all his remonstrances—her mind was evidently settled upon the wreaking a deadly vengeance of some sort against the Duke of Marehmont; and our hero saw with pain and sorrow that no friendly argument could divert her from her course. He therefore at length rose to de. part. “I have not as yet explained,” he said, “the precise motive of my visit; and from something which you yourself let drop, it may be unneces- sary to make the offer which I had originally ia- tended. Judging from all you told me in the railway-carriage some weeks back, I fancied that you purposed to retire into some seclusion here = -2zt ee eG ay 0 wire ape go ~—~7 —— a GDoo <S