The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

134 THE MYSTERIES. ling merit and value, the study of which indicated the taste and mental capacity of the Countess, She had only returned from Hertfordshire, ia a@ompany with her huabend, the evening before ;-— and, being wearied with travelling, she had risen later than usyal. Thus was it that, although the hour had already arrived when visitora might be expected, she was still in her elegant nagligés, gnd indead experienced that lassitude which sub~ dued all inglination te go through the tedious cere- mony of the toilette, The time-piece on the mantel] had atruck two, when the door slowly opened—sad the Karl of Des- borough entered the room. We have already said that he was fine, hand- some person: we may add that his demeanour was pleasant—his conversation agreeable—and his man- ners affable and gracious. Even te those whom he looked upon as his inferiore, he exhibited aot the pride and hauteur which asually characterise the English aristocracy: but he possessed a calm dig- nity, which circumstances might subdue into an air of conciliation and encouragement calculated to relieve the diffident of all awkwardness or embar- rassment in his preseneoe. In politics he waa as liberal as a peer dared be in those times or as @ British nobleman ever possibly could be ;—and a natarally generous disposition rendered him chari- table and bounteous towards those who made their sufferings known to him. Altogether, he waa sa man whom, to outward appearances, Eleanor might have tutored her heart to love;— and, judging ia the same superficial way, ssemed fully and completely adapted te ensure her happiness, But it was not sq:—and 8 oold, impereoptiblo tremor swept over her frame the instant that the Earl appeared upon the threshold of the apart- ment. “Pardon me if I intrude, Eleanor,” he said, in a somewhat mournful voice, and speaking in a tone of embarrasament—not with the frank and noble confidence of a husband: “I inquired if yor were alone before I ventured thue te break upon your privacy.” “ Has not your lordship the righé to visit me at your own good pleasure ?” asked the Countess, in a cold tone and with a marked emphasis spon the word printed in italics. “Oh! the right—wherefore do you speak to me with such bitter—painfully significant sarcasm ?” exclaimed the Kari, elosing the door aad advaneing towards her. “Do you not think, Eleanor, that my own thoughts—-my own reflections area suff- cient panishment to me for having been wieked and insane enough to link you to the side of 3 corpse ?” he added, in a tone of ineffable “ My God! talle not to me thus, my lord * inter. repted the Countess, with a shudder that was now painfolly visible: aad for a moment she tarned deadly pale--then the warm blood rushed to her cheeks as if she were ashamed at her own conduct. “Pray sit down, Francs,” she said, forcing herself to assume a milder tone, and addressing her hus- band by his Christian name. “ Mereiful heavens! what would I give te pur- chase an unvaried coatinuation of this kiedness of manner which you bave jast shown towards me |” he said, evidently touched to his very heart's core such an alliance on the part of the woman whom he worshipped— whom he loved so madly ! “ And would to God that I could always exercise @ sufficient control over myself, to enable me to treat you with that kindness which you seek to deserve at my hands,” exclaimed Eleanor, gazing on him with a. profound commiseration. “Oh! I am ungrateful—very ungrateful, Francis: J know that. lam!” she continued, cerried away by the sudden enthusiasm with which a sense of duty had inspired her. “ You surround me with all the elements of happiness—my slightest wish is antie Cipated—my very path is paved wish gold—and my relatives have been euriched by your bounty :--and yet I am cold — reserved — cruel towards yon, Franeis—and you bear it all without a murmur! Oh! forgive me, my —forgive me!” she cried, throwing herself on her knees at his feet, and joining har white handa imploriagiy: * forgive me, | say—ead in future I will endeavour to prove grateful and kind, as you yourself are generous and goad |” The Bari started from the seat which he bad taken, and for afew moments was so bewiidered and amased by thie proceeding on the part of his wife that he knew not how to act—nor whas to say, Hig fine, tall, manly form, af noble ious and commanding air, was drawn up to ite fall height ; —and his large handsome blue eyes were bent upon the beauteous women who thus knelt before him as & weeping suppliant. For the tears were stream ing dows her cheeks—-and hor red lips, paryved with the beseeohing expression whioh her oquatenaned had sazsumed, revealed the faultless teeth, white as the pearls of the east, Ho beheld, wo, the polished and exquisitively shaped arms, thrusé forth from the large aleeves of the negligent wrapper,—the hands uniting insensibly with those arma asin the statue of the Venus de " edie. Yea—thus might his looks embrace the charms of hie lovely wife: —hbut, sithough at length he recovered seif- posses. sion enough to raise her from her knees, he em. braced her not—neither did he even offer so mach as to touch her forehead with his lips. “Say—will you pardon me, Francis?” she ex- claimed, sinking back upon the sofe. “Just heaven! it is for me to implore your for- giveness, Bleanor!” he said, his oounteuance ex- reesing all the agony that reat his soul. * No—it is for me!” she responded emphatically. “I have been uakind—ungenerous towards you: bat, believe me, I have never failed te appreciate all that is good and greatin your disposition—all that is noble aad elevated in your character, Heaven knows that I have reasoned with myself ge often—QOh | se often, that I wonder how I have net yet succeeded in tutoring my mind to the eater. tainment of other thoughts—ether idens—other sentiments tewards you. But you caugnos put faith in what I now tell you—you cannet understani the sincerity of my sorrow and remorse—you remem- ber that the present acene io but a repetition of raay former ones—-and you look upon me as capri. cious, changeable, and vacillating! Yes—yes—suek your impressions, Francia—aad you are justified in in thinking thas of me !” As these last words fell from the lips of the Countess, she eovered her face with her hands— and the pearly teara trickled between her long taper ) Orem DY that Sins aclauiliation of a better Hellng flagera. CONRAN atteilo) GON