The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

HR MYSTERIES OF THR COURT. . 55 = —_at I when he knew he could not procure leave of ab- sence from his regiment, would be to renounce his commission—and when the reason should be known, to be cut by everybody as a coward. Yet the cer- tificate ssast be forthcoming! Would the date of it matter so long as it was displayed P? Certainly not. Then the only alternative which could be adopted, was the marriage of the Hon. Augustus Softly with Mademoiselle Armantine by special licence on the morrow. All these reflections passed through Mr. Softly’s brain, as Armantine doffed the red coat and the cap. He looked oat her. She was exquisitely shaped—her countenance was beautiful, But then, to marry one’s migtress! Still it was better than to be sacrificed to the vengeance of a blood-thirsty fire-eater; and Mr. Softly came to the conclusion that i¢ was the best course he could possibly adopt. Armantive fully comprehended al] that was passing in bis mind: she Javished ber caresses upon him— sho declared how much she loved him—she said everything to gratify his vanity and minister to hie pride—she protested that she was ready and willing to make any sacrifice to ensure his happi- ness—she would eyen flee from the country, though her own heart should break—but sho dreaded the vengeance of the terrible Cartwright on account of her dear Augustus ! Could Mr. Softly resist all this? Impossible ! He drank glass after glass of champagne—his blood was heated with the wine and with Arman. tine’s seductive caresses—he likewise experienced an awful horror of Captain Cartwright ; and thus, amidst the strange and unnatural confusion of his feelings and bewilderment of his thoughts, he de- cided on securing the charmer as his wife, and thereby averting the hideous vengeance of the fire-eater. aaa CHAPTER XCIII. THE OLD LORD AND HIS MISTRESS. Tas scene now changes to the sumptuously fyr- nished house which Wenham hed hired for the accommodgtion of his beautifyl Eglantine— who was passed off on him as the immaculate nigce of the not very immaculate Madame Angelique. The reader will not have forgotten that his lord- sbip was en octogenqrian, with bowed form, wrinkled face, an absence of teeth, a continuous hacking cough, and a mumbling stammering mode of speech. Well nigh in his dotags, he had placed implicit confidence in the specious tale of Eglan- tine’s virtue, and in the specious manner in which the young lady had played her part towards her “ wicked aunt.” Immensely rich, and a widower, the’ antiquated nobleman thought that he had 9 perfect right to minister to bis own pleasures; and he had not therefore hesitated to form this moet expensive connexion. It was in the forenoon on the day following the incidents which we have related in the preceding chapter; and if we peep into an exquisitely fur- nished boudoir at Miss Eglantine’s new abode, we shall find the young lady and her ancient pro- tector sested at breakfast. His lordship had passed the night at the house; and he was com- LN, pletely infatuated, like an old dotard as he was, with his beautiful mistress. We should observe that there had been all the shyness and prudery of a veritable virgin bride in the first instance; and now that some days had elapsed since the con- nexion began, Eglantine appeared to entertain so lively a sense of the old lord’s generosity and kind. ness, that she behaved as if she already esteemed and could soon love him. They were seated, as we have said, at breakfast, —Eglantine in a charming deshabillés — Lord Wenham in a dressing-gown and black velvet skull-cap. The contrast was jmmense—and af. forded a striking illustration of the varieties of ap- pearance which human beings may present to the view,—how one may be formed to fascinate and another to disgust—how grace, elegance, and lovee liness may belong to youth, and how loathsome ugliness may characterize old age. And yet that old lord was infatuated enough to hug the belief that he had already rendered himself agreeable to Eglantine—that she esteemed him—and that sho would soon love him. And he moreover already doted upon her: he would sooner have parted with title and wealth than have separated from her. He was jealous too—as jealoys as he could be not because she hed given him any reason for the sentiment, nor becayse he was deficient in conceit of bis own meritse—but because it is in the naturp of all men to be thus jealous of young wives, and stil] more of young mistresses. “‘ My dear girl,” he presently said, after having contemplated her for two or three minutes,— “ugh! ugh! this dreadful cough of mine!|—— you seem pensive to-day? Tell me, my sweet girl—ugh! ugh! if it weren't for this horrible cough I shonid feel quite young again !—But tel) me, what it is that makes you look so pensive 7” “Pensive—am I pensive?” ejaculated Eglan- tine, ag if suddenly starting up from a reverjo; “I am sure I djd not think I wgs! And yot-——”’ “Ugh! ugh!—and yet——ugh} ugh !—this dreadful cough! But why, my dear, did you qualify your assurance? Pray be candid with me —ugh! ugh! Jf there is anything you want-—»— ugh! ugh !———anythipg more I can do to ensure your happiness ———” “Your lordship hes already done so much for me,” responded Eglantine, “as tq leave not a single wish unfulfiled. Indeed, I had never formed any such wishes at all—for I did not foreage what my fate was to be !”—and as Eglantine thus spoke in a tremulous voice, she syffered her eyelids to droop—her air became pensive agein—and then sho hastily passed her kerchief across her brow, as if wiping away tears. “Come, come, my dear girl,” said the old noble- man, “ what—what—ugh ! ugh!—perdition take this cough of mine !—ugh! ugh!—what, what is it that makes you so melancholy ?” “To be candid with you, my lord,” answored Eglantine, suddenly looking up with an air of the most artless sincerity into the countenance of her aged protector, “I have been thinking what my uncle would say to me if he knew what I had done ~—or what he would do to my aunt if he learnt to what she has brought me P”’ “Your uncle—ugh! Your sunt—ugh ! ugh!” stammered and coughed Lord Wenham. “I never CONIC OOO <S