The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 310: what you’re looking at

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

en THE MYSSERIB. “I demand the pardon of your Boyal Highness,” sij the baronet. “Iam well aware that I ought not to intrade my sorrows upon you! BrtI was abont to ask your Royal Highyess whether jt be fitting to introduce a man with auch a ruined, shat- tered heart as mine, into the preseuce pf your sogust parents? Qh! no—no: for the deeper the solitade in which I dwell—the more profound the misanthropy in which I shroud myself—the mere inveterate the cynicism which henceforth shall characterise my existence——” “Sir Richard Stamford,” interrupted the Princees Amelia, speaking with a gravity which seemed sin- galar not only for her years but likewise for the almost cherub style of beauty which marked her countenanee,—* you must allow me to assume the part of a counsellor—an adtiser—a friend. I will frankly inform you that when I read in the news- papers the romantic narrative of your sorrows and | wrongs, I conceived a boundless compassion ‘forthe man who had sustained such an accumulated ‘weight of misery. Little did I imagine that I |shoald ever encounter the hero of that mournful ‘tragedy. Bat we have met—and under circum- ances forming an appropriate sequence to your vid, wondrous, and touching history. For, at a moment when my own heart was swelling almost to bursting, I mistook you for that brother whose image absorbed all my thoughts—and you checked with a generous, noble, manly warning that out- pouring of words which, flowing from my lips, might have conveyed revelations unfitted for any ear save that of a member of the Royal Family. This con- duct on your part has made me your debltor—and has likewise augmented the interest which I already experienced in your behalf. Let me then address you asa friead; let me throw aside all affectation, and at omce myself on confidential terms with you. For although I am buta girl in years—yet in maturfity of reflection and in steadiness of thought | 1 flatter myself that Iam awoman. Permit me, therefore, Sir Richard Stamford, to remind you that ‘ ideas of misanthropy and cynicism aré not suita- ' ble to & man of true courage. No one has a right | & withdraw himself from the world and turn hermit. If all who are unhappy were to fly into solitude, | what would become of society? It would dwindle | | — 5 gi i if a aes SPS SS gS eo down into a waste—a wilderness—a desert. No— msasthropy is not the part which God destined haman beings to play in this world. You have been sorely tried—woes of no ordisary magnitude have been heaped upon your head. The greater, then, wil become merit of patience—endurance— , Fes ° . | This is an angel breataing the sublimest truths | in my ears f exclaimed Sir Richard Stamford ; and sopping short—dropping the arm of the Princess | he tarned towards her, fixing his ravished, ad- wiring, almost adoring gaze upou her countenance. “i'thank God that ke has enabled my lips to utter words which have touched your heart,” said the royal maiden, in a tone of the most holy and most unaffected sincerity. “Were I placed in an- other sphere,” she continued, after a brief pause, ' 61 ghonld insist that yon now accompanied me home—that you would suffer me to introduce you to my pareute—that you would take up your aoode with us for a few weeks, so that your bruised spirit might receive the asodyne which is found in cheer- fal society. But all this may not be,” she added, 295 layitg ber hand gettly upon bis arm and looking up mournfully into his countenance. “Nevertheless, aa the daughter of your King, I have taken it upon myself to tender you my advice—to offer you thé cdrisclatiof, which truthful doctsinves may im- part——” pr bao. ' “And you have consoled me, excellent- hearted Princeas!”’ ¢jaoulated' the baronet “Gteat hea- vens! to think that the female voice should ever egain have had the power to reach a cherd in my heart and make it vibrates} Methought shat my soul was dead to all the tender sensibilides whick womdn’s looks of words: slone can kindle !” “ For a man to entertain such an opinion of him- self, is the worst kind of scepticism, and must be offensive to his Maker,” said the Princess Amelia, in a grave tone: “because it amounts to a denial of that hope which sustains us in our career, and which is an effluence from the divinity itself.” Again did Sir Richard Stamford gaze in mingled admiration and rapture upon that royal maiden whose character was so natural and without dis. guise,—whose manners were 80 impressive, and yet so winning in their almost infantile simplicity,— whose air was dignified, yet attempered by the sweetest feminine timidity,—and whose angelio countenance, though tender and languishing, was yet noble in its lineaments and characterised with an expression so purely gentle and confiding. “ Princess,” said the baronet, in « voice deeply moved, “had any man prophesied to me an hour ago that it was possibie for mortal tongue to pour solace into my soul, I should have shaken my head in token of incredulity: but had any one whispered in my ear that a daughter of the King would con- descend even to trouble herself concerning my sorrows, I should have upbraided him with the as- tounding folly to which he was giving utterance. And yet, my God! both predictions, had they been made, would by this time have received their fulfil. ment ;—and on my knees—Oh! on my knees, royal lady—must I pour forth the heartfelt gratitude which I experience for the angel-part which you have performed towards me |” And, reckleas whether there were thousands of eyes to behold the action, Sir Richard Stamford sank down at the feet of the Princess Amelia—took her hand—pressed it to his lips—and wept over it, Sweeping a half terrified glance around — then, bending her looks upon the baronet, when assured that no prying eyes beheld them—tha Prineces felt such strange and undefinable emotions stirring within her bosom, that she could not immediately give utterance to the words she wished to speak for the purpose of commanding him to rise from his suppliant posture. New intuitions appeared sud- deply to spring up in her soul; aud, when she did recover the power of language, it was in a deeply melting tone that she said, “ Rise, sir—rise—you may be observed—and what will be thought of us both °” Recalled to a sense of the inconsiderateness of that action to which however a deep and fervent sense of gratitude had impelled him,—Sir Richard Stamford sprang to his feet: then, when his eyes again met those of the Priucess Amelia, he saw thet she was blushing deeply. For the very words which she had last uttered had seemed inscrutably and mys- teriously to link and associate themselves with the new feelings which were springing up in her bosoana 3 COMGROO S COMM