The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

86 THE COURT OF LONDON you were seized with a sudden and violent sorrow. For me- thought that you sat down by my bedside, and took my hand, and began to talk to me upon subjects to which I paid little heed at first, but which gradually enticed my attention, and then enthralled it altogether. And it appeared to me that you told me many things which had happened when I was a little child and which I had since forgotten; and so pleasing, so touching, and so truthful was your language, that I imagined myself once more a child, chasing the butterfly through the green fields, with my straw hat hanging half-off my head, and my tiny feet scarcely pressing down the daisies and buttercups over which they glancingly sped. And then you spoke of home, yes, of home, a home that I once had, where kind faces smiled upon me, and kind hands pressed mine, and kind voices murmured God’s blessing in my ear; and again were your words so truthful and so striking that I wept at those reminiscences which were thus conjured up. But I have no home now,” added Octavia, heaving a profound sigh, ‘‘ for this odious chamber cannot be called my home. No, no, ’tis a prison, a vile prison. Behold the bars at the windows, the iron grating over that fireplace, the padlocks to hold that grating fast, the door of the room always kept locked — Yes, ’tis a prison, a vile prison — Merciful God! ’tis not the home of my child- hood — Oh, no, no! ” And having thus become suddenly excited by the un- happy turn which the current of her thoughts took all in a moment, Octavia clasped her hands convulsively, while her countenance, a few moments before completely unruffled, showed by its workings how poignant were the spasms that rent her heart. “ Octavia, Octavia, dearest Octavia! ” exclaimed Pauline, unable to restrain her feelings any longer, but clasping her sister to her bosom. ‘‘ Oh, do you not recognize me? Do you not know me, my beloved Octavia? ” ‘“ Ah! what name is that which you have mentioned? ”’ cried the unhappy lady, tearing herself from Pauline’s em- brace, and speaking in a quick, agitated manner. ‘“ Me- thinks that name is familiar to me — yes, I have heard it before — Oh, breathe it again, for it sounds softly and sweetly upon your lips.’’ And the elder sister gazed with a winning tenderness, C@Mmiclboooks (C(O)