The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 230: what you’re looking at

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THE MYSTERIK&S. 213 Had his life depended on the issue, he could not have stayed that passionate ebullition of glowing praises. The spell of your ladyship’s beauty gave an impulse to his language, which rendered him magnificently eloquent: and, Oh! how handsome and god-like did he appear when thus breathing forth the evidences of a love—an ardent love—the existence of which he could not conceal even though in the presence of Mrs. Fitzherbert! His soul, speaking through his eyes as intelligibly as by his tongue, was one flame of passion. His cheeks mantied and his heart throbbed, as if the incantation of your witching beauty was upon him. Oh! I could read all that was passing in his mind—in his heart—in the profundities of his soul :—and I pitied him ! “You pitied him” said Eleanor, in a languid and tremulous tone, as a thousand agitating thoughts and tender feelings swept through her. “Pardon me for making the obeervation, my lady,” returned the milliner, throwing some emo- tion into her own voice; “but I must frankly c on- fees that I did pity him then—do pity him now !” “Then he loves me!” murmtred Eleanor, lean- mg her head upon her hand and falling into a deep reverie, which lasted several minutes: at length, raising her eyes, ami starting at beholding Mrs. Brace whose presence she had forgotten dur- ing that interval of profound meditation, she said, “You must think me very vain—very silly—very foolish to have listened with so much apparent attention to all you have been telling me: but it bas served to while away an hour,” she added, glancing at the time-piece upon the mantel;— “and I thank you for your kind endeavours to amuse me,” “Ihope your ladyship does not imagine that I have uttered a single word which is not literally ‘true, or in which I do not conscientiously believe,” aid Mrs. Brace. “No—I give you credit for sincerity,” responded Eleanor: then, her pride again coming to her aid, she observed iu a tone which denoted her desire that the conversation should end, “You may leave two of the morning-caps—those which you think will become me best.” | Mrs. Brace was too discreet not to take the hint ; Gras conveyed: she accordingly made her curtsey and withdrew. : Bat as the crafty and designing milliner descended the stairs, she chuckled inwardly at the effect which she saw had been produced by her specious language on the mind of the Countess of Desborough; and she said to herself, “That proud patrician lady will ere long surrender the fortalice of her charms to the Prince !” On entering the waiting-room adjoining the hall, the milliner found the young lady in deep mourning whom she had left there, conversing with a tall, thin, pale, but very handsome and interesting young man, dressed in a neat though homely garb. “Now, Mise Morton, my dear,” ssid Mrs. Brace: “we will return home.” “I am at your service, madam,’ answered the | beautiful girl; and, with a gentle inclination of the " head towards the young map, she followed her mis- | tress from the room. When they were in the hackney-coach together, the milliner said, “ Who was that person you were talking to, Camilla %” ee “ He is a stranger to me, madam,” was the prompt and ingenuous reply. “ Indeed, he had not ween in the apartment many minutes ere you came. Some civil remark which he made rendered it necessary for me to give him an equally courteous answer: but if you are offended with me, madam, for speaking to one totally unknown to me, I can assure you that I gave him no encouragement to address me.” “My dear Camilla.” said Mrs. Brace, in her kindest tone, “I am not in the least vexed with you. I know that you are a good girl and will follow my advice in all things; and that is sufficient. Indeed, I have promised to become a mother to you—and I will keep my word.” “Oh! my dear madam, how grateful am I to you for this assurance!” exclaimed the young girl who was as beautiful as the sweet Christian name to which she answered, and who now appeared deeply —<dceply interesting as her eyes flashed looks of gratitude through her tears, as if they were lighted up with twin-drops of the diamond dew. “Come, my dear child,” said Mrs. Brace; * wipe away all traces of weeping—for you have a little commission to execute for me at this house where the coach is about to stop.” And as the milliner uttered these words, the vehicle, in pursuance of the directions which she had already given to the driver, drew up at the front door of a splendid mansion in Piccadilly. “T am anxious that this note,” said Mra. Brace, handing Camillaa neatly folded billet, “should be delivered to Lord Florimel—and to him only. It must not be conveyed through a servant—and I do not wish te deliver it myself. The truth is, my love,” added the milliner, in a hasty and confidential whisper, “it is a little money-matter—a debt which one of his lordship’s lady-cousins owes me—and I know that all my previous applications for payment have been intercepted, when addressed to him. He will settle his extravagant relative’s liability, if we can manage that the note shall] only reach him.” “T understand you, madam,” said the artless, in- nocent, and unsuspecting Camilla, perfectly satisfied with this explanation, every word of which was of course falee: “you desire me to solicit an interview with his lordship, and place the note in his hands.” “That is exactly what I mean, my love,” re- sponded Mrs. Brace, with bland tone and caressing The beantifal girl, anxious to testify her readiness to oblige a mistress who promised to be a mother to her, descended from the vehicle; and, the front door of the mansion being by this time open in obedience to the summons given by the coachman, she in- quired of the powdered and lace-bedizened lacquey whether Lord Florimel was at home. An answer was returned in the affirmative; and she was con- ducted into a smal! but elegantly-furnished parlour, where the young nobleman, in a morning-garb, was lounging in an arm-chair close by the blazing fire, perusing a novel. The instant that Camilla made her appearance, he was struck by the beauty of her person, the mo- desty of her demeanour, and the sylph-like sym- metry of her form. Advancing bashfully—almost timidly—towards him, she presented the note, ob- serving in a soft and silver tone, “ Mrs. Brace sends this, my lord, with her respectful compliments.” Florimel instantly comprehended, by the fact ot the fair creature being in mourning, that she was the COMGROO S COMM