The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

130 THE COURT OF LONDON turned and beheld another lady, also dressed in deep black, and also with a profound shade of mournfulness upon her countenance. She was about forty-six years old and pos- sessed the remains of a beauty that must have once been truly splendid. She was still a very fine woman, stout and portly, with a commanding air that was natural to her, and which was visible enough despite her mourning garments and the sorrow of her looks. The lady in black whom we represented as having emerged from the evergreens gave vent to a sudden ejaculation of astonishment on beholding this other lady who had just entered the avenue, and whom she evidently recognized. Then, as the attention of the latter was at once drawn by this ejaculation toward her who had uttered it, the recognition was instantaneously mutual. ‘“‘ Anne! ”’ exclaimed the one who had emerged from the evergreens. ‘« Lilian! ’’ said the other, who was indeed Mrs. Owen, of Richmond. “ Is it you? ”’ ‘Yes, it is I, Anne, your unhappy sister, the victim of Bernard Audley,’’ responded Lilian Halkin, for such was the name of her whom in previous parts of the history we have denominated the lady in black. Then the sisters took each other’s hand in a melancholy and remorseful manner, as if this present meeting irresistibly carried their memories back to long past years, over which they retrospected with regret; and though there was some- thing tender and pathetic in the way in which they held each other’s hand and gazed upon each other’s countenance, they did not embrace. There was no enthusiastic joy in the meeting, but a profound melancholy; and as they thus surveyed each other and mutually marked the changes which time had wrought in their appearance since last they met many years ago, it was easy to read in their looks how deeply at that instant went the conviction in unto their souls that their lives had not been such as they ought to have been, and that it would prove but a mournful and regretful task to compare notes in that respect with each other. “And you recognized me at once, Lilian?” said Mrs. Owen. “Yes. But you, should you have recognized me had commiclboolks C©