Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 280 of 399
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 280: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1900. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
| THE MYSTERIES. “Bat she knows your Royal Highness to be Mr. Harley—or Mr. Harley to be your Royal High- nes —- whichever you choose?” exclaimed the nilliner. “Yes—yes: all that she knows perfectly,” said the heir-apparent ; “and a very extraordinary girl she is. Gifted with a remarkable spirit — great of mind—and wonderful courage, she can defy, dare, and threaten a Prince. Nay, more— to my very face she told me that she hated me.” “And yet your Royal Highness declares that there is no danger !” cried Mrs. Brace, in aspecies of bewilderment. “Not for the present, I tell you,” exclaimed George, who was a firm believer in the Christian maxim which says, Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. “ Pauline will let me know very shortly what she wishes me to do in her sister’s matter ;— and when the time comes—why—then we'll think about it. You know I am not a man who meets misfortune half-way: I hate anticipating evil ;— tis bad enough when it comes. And now, my dear Panny, I mast thank you for the aid you have ren- dered me in my scheme respecting Lady Des- With these words, his Royal Highness imprinted, a kiss upon the lips of the handsome milliner; and, having once more conjured her to be punctual at the place of appointment, he sped back to the brilliant saloons where the dancing was going on with increasing spirit. The Duchess of Devonshire had already returned thither; and the Prince was speedily by her side. “ What news, my dear Georgiana 7?” demanded he. 4] cannot find Mra. Fitzherbert in her apartments,” answered the Duchess, “She is not there—and I am assured, in answer to the inquiries which I made, that her servants have not seen her since the com- mencement of the ball.” “ Very strange !” ejaculated the Prince: then, in a calmer and far more indifferent tone, he observed, “Bat there are plenty of other rooms in Carlton House to which she could have retired for the pur- pose of enjoying her sulks;—and I shall not trouble myself farther in the matter. Thanks however, Georgiana, to you for your kindness in endeavouring to seek her.” The Prince remained in converéation with the charming and sprightly Duchess for about ten mi- nutes the expiration of which period he again quitted the brilliant saloons. CHAPTER LXXV. ANOTHER SCENE AT CARLTON HOUSE, Tae Countess of Desborough had appeared radi- antly beautiful to all eyes; but that carnation glow which suffused her cheeks with its richest hue, was heightened by the conflicting emotions that warred within her bosom, as well as by the effort which she made to conceal them. In the little leisure which the excitement of the brilliant soene and the gay dance left her tocommune with herself, she had vainly endeavoured to conjec- tare what could be the aim and nature of the myste- rions warning given her by Mrs. Brace. Was it possible that ber frailty with the individual whom she knew as Gustavus Wakefield, and whom she 262 already loved with an earnest and devoted affection, —was it possible that this frailty could be known, or even suspectefl! And if not, then how could her fair fame be menaced ?—and how could evil or danger be threatening her? Lastly, whatever were the peril, how happened it that Mra Brace, of all women in the world, should be able and willing to rescue her from its consequences? . These thoughts swept, with whirlwind speed, many times through the brain of the Countess of Desbo- rough during the evening: but the oftener they re- curred to her mind, the more bewildering did they seem—and the less easy was it to hazard a conjecture upon a single point. Tortured with the eruellest suspense — harassed with the most painful misgiving—at one moment fearful that some treachery was intended—at another experiencing a full revival of confidence in the sin- cerity of the milliner,—now trembling lest the Prince of Wales himself should be at the bottom of the whole affair—then reassuring herself with the argu- ment that he would never dare to devise any plot or perpetrate any outrage against her beneath his own roof and on such an occasion as the present,—at one time-resolving to treat the thing with contempt—at another deciding upon keeping the appointment,— now painfully recalling to mind the milliner’s former misconduct and duplicity—then starting at the re- collection of the solemn and impressive manner In which the warning was given,—thus, torn with a thousand conflicting sentiments, the Countess of Desborough knew not how to act. At length—when still undecided—her eyes en- countered a time-piece: the hands marked mid- night! Rapidly sweeping her looks around, she saw that her husband was conversing at a distance with some other noblemen—that the Duchess of Devonshire was talking to Pauline Clarendon and Florimel— and that the Princess Sophia was engaged with a group of ladies in another quarter. For the first time during the evening did the Countess, therefore, now find herself so entirely alone, as it were—amidst the brilliant throng — that she could escape without being perceived from the saloons. Should she go ?—should she keep the appointment? Yes: an invincible feeling urged her to adopt the affirmative course —for her conscience, making a coward of her in one sense, prompted her to hasten and learn the nature of the peril which her. Behold her issuing forth from the gorgeous saloons. ‘There are servants on the landing—in the ante-chambers: but what of that? She may be going to the toilette-room or to Mra, Fitzherbert's apartmenta, It does not, therefore, seem etrango that she should thus have left the saloons—alone! The passage is gained: lightly and rapidly she threads it. Mrs. Brace is waiting for her at the end. The milliner places her finger with mysterious significance upon her lip—and hastily throws open a door. Eleanor crosses the threshold : the door closes noiselessly behind her. Bat, without perceiving that she is alone—in- deed, fancying that the milliner is following her— ghe traverses 8 small ante-chamber lighted by a lamp held in the hand of an alabaster statue. An open door faces her: she unhesitatingly enters the apartment with which it communicates ; — but scarcely has she crossed the threshold when this COMGLOO S COMM