The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 45: what you’re looking at

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28 fusion was such as to be likely to attract the notice of Pauline: “at least, I hope that my valet Edwards did not omit to mention the fact that I knew sn apology to be necessary for my abrupt, unaccount- oe and apparently rude departure the night before “Your domestic obeyed your orders with exac- titude, Mr. Harley,” said Octavia, now recovering her self-possession: “but we require no explana- tion—being well aware,” she added, timidly, “ that you are incapable of acting with intentional rude- ness.” “ A thousand thanks, Mies Clarendon—dear Miss Clarendon—for your kind opinion of me,” exclaimed Mr. Harley, fixing upon her a look of indescribable tenderness, which she involuntarily retarned—for ahe was not mistress of her actions, much less of ner emotions. “I mxst, however, in justice to my- self as well as from respect to you, explain the reasons of my precipitate disappearance. But first permit me to ask whether those ladies happened to mention to you who they were ~—” “One was a Mrs. Mordaunt—and the other a Mrs. Smith,” answered Pauline: “but Octavia and T had our suspicions on that head,” she added, archly. “ Indeed !” ejaculated Mr. Harley, darting a keen and searching look upon the younger sister: “and what might those suspicions be, Miss Panline ?” “Oh! we thought it very probable that they might be great ladies travelling incognito,” returned the laughing girl, as she desisted for a moment from her occupation of pouring out the tea. “ Not unlikely,” observed Mr. Harley, with a pe- culiar dryness of manner which might have been even taken for covert satire had the sisters been experienced enough thus to comprehend it: then, instantly resuming his usual bland, affable, and peculiarly gentlemanly tone and deportment, he said, “TI presume that Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Mor- daunt did not make any allusion to me?” “None,” replied Pauline. “ But did you happen to know those ladies, then? I should scarcely think so—or else you would not have run away so ungallantly,” added the young maiden in a playful manner. “Ah! now you remind me that I have yet to give you a certain explanation,” said Mr. Harley : “and I will delay it no longer. The truth is, then, that in those ladies belonging to the broken chariot, I recognised near relatives of the ungrateful friend who had placed me in a temporary embarrassment; and so irritated became my feelings at the time that I knew not what I did. Acting without the least forethought, and only in obedience to the impulse of the moment, I hurried away in order to avoid the necessity of even exchanging a word with those whose presence awoke such painful remini- scences.” “ Then you were acquainted with the two ladies?” said Octavia ; “and you can inform us whether they gave their real names, or whether the romantic no- tion of my sister Pauline be correct ?” “ Yes—dear Miss Clarendon—they did not de- ceive you in respect to their names,” answered Mr. Harley: “as who indeed would deceive yox in any- thing ” he added, sinking his voice to the lowest and availing himself of the opportunity af- forded by Pauline’s turning aside for the moment to eut up a cake, THE MYSTERIES. The tea was now served round—and not only did Mr. Harley force himself to swallow two cups of a beverage which he in reality detested, but also managed to eat a slice of cake though he knew it would disagree with hin. But he was well aware of the immense strides heshould thus make in the good graces of these artless, frank, and good-natured girls by adapting himself familiarly to their com- paratively homely habits; and thus by the time that the old char-woman was summoned to clear the table, he had as it were insinuated himself into a position of as friendly an intimacy as if they had known him for a dozen years. But then his manners were so fascinating—his conversation so delightful—and his attentions so constant, and yet so delicate. Without an effort and also without affectation, he displayed a perfect acquaintance with the literature of the country— made striking comments upon the passing events of the day—and related several amusing anecdotes relative to those great men of the age whose names sre in every body's mouth ;—then, with an easy and apparently quite natural transition, he slided glibly into a critique upon the last new dramas pro- duced at the national theatres, and by a few rapid remarks on the musical talent in vogue at the time, proved his exquisite taste and delicate perception in respect to the divine art. In this manner the time passed rapidly away: minutes flew by with silent wings, until they accu- mulated into hours; and when the clock struck ten, Pauline quitted the room in order to give directions for supper. The moment Octavia found herself alone with Mr. Harley, a species of tremor came over her—not of pain, nor yet altogether of pleasure,—but a strange commingling of the two, such as when hope and fear retain the soul in the excitement of suspense. “Oh! what happiness have I experienced this evening !”’ exclaimed Harley, turning towards the blushing, trembling maiden, and bending upon her a look full of the most melting fondness. “The few hours that I have passed with you, lovely Octavia, have appeared to me an elysian felicity—an interval so full of heavenly bliss, that it were worth while to give the ten best years of one’s existence to enjoy it again! Yes, adorable girl,” he continued, his tone becoming more fervent and his manner more impas- sioned,—* I loved you the first moment that I beheld you—and ever since you have not once been absent from my thoughts! I have cherished your image—I shall ever cherish it,’ he exclaimed, seizing her hand and pressing it to his lips in rapture. “ Mr. Harley—I implore you—oh! I conjure you —nay, I command you — release me,” faltered Octavia, a deeper blush suffusing her countenance while her eyes appeared to swim in a liquid langour and her bosom palpitated with a variety of conflict- ing emotions, joy and fear preponderating. “ Nay—do not seek to deprive me of this fair hand, Octavia!” said Mr. Harley, throwing himself on his knees before her, and gluing his lips to the hand which he still retained in his own and which the bewildered girl exerted herself but feebly to withdraw “do not dash away the cup of happiness and hope which you have raised to my lips! I love you, Octavia—I adore you,—for you are all that is beau- tiful, and good, and excellent to be beloved! And believe me, sweet girl, when I take heaven to witness. that never until now have I known what true love is. a a eS tf COMGLOO S COMM