The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

——— 210 She staggered a few paces and was on the point of falling: but in a moment she perceived the tre- mendous precipice oh which she stood—in an instant she saw the necessity of gathering all her courage and presence of mind to her aid, if she wished to relieve herself frem a state of awful sus- pense and ascertain whether he had actually over- heard her conversation with the Duchess, or not. “ What! are you here?” she said, in a faint and faltering tone, advancing at the same time and laying her hand upon his shoulder. ‘Ah! my dearest Eleanor,” he exclaimed, start- ing up: but it struck her that he was very pale ! “ Have you been here long 2” she asked, her tone becoming still more tremuloms, and her entire frame quivering like an aspen leaf. “Yes—that is, not many minytes,” ke replied, in- stantly correcting his first monosyllabic answer. “ J have been reading that book, and was so absorbed in its contents that I really forgot how long J could have been here.” And he smiled—bat, as it struck her, sefth, a ghastly attempt ta conceal horrible thoughts ! “What book is it?” she inquized, hastily bending down her head to hide the shame which flushed her checks—and not shame only. bat torturing terror of wi 82 ul iT su ar ac W. fil to hi at SESW B246VF8S8WSOU %FFSEDES ECW DWLESUtWWY 44W1588 5440 Wee Ge srw words which @he bed addressed to him and on feeling her hahd upon his shoulder. Revived by the hope, which was inatantly followed by the thought that if he had overheard her conversation with the Duchees it would be impossible for him to appear even as cool and collected as he was, Eleanor raised ber countenance again, saying, “ Were you not aware that an old friend of mine was with me just now? She would have been delighted to see you.” “ Yes—I understood that you had company—the Duchess of Devonshire, was it not?” observed the Earl, in a tone which struck the Countess to be ominously peculiar and unnatural. “ But I did not choose to disturb you,” he added, almost imme- diately; “ besides, I do not feel very well this after- noon.” : “Has anything occurred to vex or annoy you, Francis?” inquired the Countess : and, as she spoke, she darted a rapid but searching—scrutinising— penetrating glance upon her husband's countenance. “ Annoy me! Oh! nothing—nothing, I can assure you, dear Eleanor,” he exclaimed, taking her hand and carrying it to his lips: then, instantly dropping it—and, as she thought at least, with singular ab- ruptness, as if it had suddenly become loathsome to him after his mouth had thus touched it--he said, | “No—I have nothing to annoy me—uniess it be | the perverse conduct of Fernanda, in so obstinately | refusing the reparation which Arthur Eaton so! “No—I would not give you so much trouble, since | _—_ ——_— oe a= = TINE MYSTERIES. honourably offered. Have you seen Fernanda to-day ?”’ ‘She has kept her-room, as you know, almost ever since her return home a few days ago,” answered Eleanor, gradually becoming reassured, though still experiencing an oppressive uneasiness—for she could not subdue the idea that there was something re- markably strange, forced, and unnatural in her hus- band’s manner. At thie moment a domestic entered to announce that dinner was served. The Earl instantly proffered Eleanor his arm ; and, as he escorted her to the dining-room below, he turned the conversation on some leading topic of the day, and which was quite distinct from their own concerns: then, after they were seated at table, he continued to discourse in the same strain, and with a better flow of spirits than he was accustomed to enjoy. The result was that Eleanor’s apprehensions gradually subsided, until they passed away alto- gether ;—and, feeling convinced that her husband had not overheard anything which occurred between herself and the Dachess of Devonshire, she con- cluded that what she had fancied to be an ominous singularity of manner on his part was only the work of her own fevered imagination and guilty con- science. For Eleanor did look upon the revelation which she had made to the Duchess and the thoughts to which she had yielded subsequently, as crimes which abe had committed ! CHAPTER LIX, THE COUNTESS AND THE MILLINER. Between eleven and twelve o'clock on the follow- ing morning, Mrs. Brace, attended by a young person in mourning, alighted from a hackney-coach at the door of the Karl of Desborough’s mansion in Berkeley Square. The young person just alluded to, carried a large band-box in her hand: for, being the junior assist- ant in Mrs. Brace’s establishment, it was her duty to aceompany her mistress on such occasions as tlic present. She however remained below in a specics | of waiting-room opening froin the hall, while the | milliner, taking the band-box, ascended to the bed- chamber of the Countess. Eleanor, having passed a restless and feverish night, had not long risen from her couch. Dressed in a charming deshabillée, she was half-reclining in a capacious arm-chair near the fire, and playing with rather than partaking of the cup of chocolate which stood on a little table at her right hand. — Her raven hair was negligently gathered up into bands, the rich masses of which framed with ebony | her spotless forehead: she was pale—and an appear- ance of languor was expressed on her countenance and pervaded her entire form. The lady’s-maid, having ushered in Mrs. Brace, immediately retired ; and the milliner was left alone with the Countess. “ T had really forgotten my appointment with you, this morning,” said the latter. | “If it will suit your ladyship better, I can easily cal] again,” answered Mrs. Brace, in her most dulce tones. . , A cw ee —_ - CONRAN atteilo) FD) Ss COMM