The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES But how did the innocent and artless Florina know that Deveril loved her? Had he ever de- clared his passion? No: he had not dared to do so; nor had she ever ventured to encourage him in | such daring. But to those who love, the signs and evidences of love in others are as intelligible as a language which though unknown to some, is yet a facile means of interchanging thoughts with those who can speak it. For love has its own peculiar language, which though often ineffable, is neverthe- less potent in its silent eloquence,—a language whose syllables, and words, and sentences are ex- pressed by a thousand little circumstances that pass unnoticed by the common observer, but which are full of meaning to those whose hearts afford the key to the reading of those mysteries. Thus a gesture —a suppressed sign—a look hurriedly given and as hurriedly withdrawn—the flitting blush upon the cheeks—the thrill which is mutually experienced when the hands accidentally come in contact—the visible quivering of the entire form at such contact —the subdued hushed tone in which words are spoken at one moment, and the suddenly excited warmth with which they are uttered at another, although the words themselves may be merely commonplace,—all these are the signs, and emblems, and soul-waftings of love. But more !—when two beings of kindred dispositions and congenial spirits, and in whose union there appears to be a fitness marked by nature and designated by heaven,— when two such beings meet, although they may give no single one of all those signs of mutual pas- sion, yet is there not such a thing as the sott and mystic transfusion cf souls, taking place by some | unknown and ineffable agency—a. blending of the spirits such as no gross passion can know and no common nature experience,—an interchange of silent whisperings from heart to heart,—the whole passing all human understanding ? If the reader can comprehend all this, he will not be surprised that a being so pure and chaste in thought, so stainless and immaculate in soul, so in- nocent and unsophisticated in all the artifices of the world—so etherealized, in short, not merely above that patrician sphere to which she belonged, but also above humanity itself,—there is no need for wonder, we repeat, that such a being as Florina Staunton should have fathomed the secret of Wil- liam Deveril’s heart. 3 But let us continue the thread of our narrative. She had started and she had blushed as he spoke with such sudden warmth; and yetit was a warmth intelligible only to herself, and which would have had nothing significantly perceptible for any com- mon observer had others been present in the room, And Deveril saw that she had started and that she had blushed—saw likewise that her suddenly ex- sited emotions had left a thrilling quivering behind, and that as she took up the camel’s-iair pencil in her fair fingers it trembled as if the hand that held it were an aspen-leaf. Then, in the confusion into which his own feelings were suddenly thrown by the incident, he endeavoured to stammer out some excuse, in which attempt his confusion only grew worse confounded. “I beg your ladyship’s pardon—I spoke vehe- mently hurriedly but—but your lady- ship is aware I did not speak disrespecttully —-” Mr. Deveril!” she | i “ Disrespectfully? Ob, -no, _avowals to the idol of adoration. OF THE COURT, exclaimed: “I know you are incapable of that °— and as she thus spoke, Florina raised her clear deop blue eyes to her preceptor’s countenance. “JY thank your ladyship for that assurance,” he said, in the low tremulous tone which indicates feelings proudly moved, and which are almost too full to be restrained,—feelings which while thus threatening to obtain the mastery, appear as if they must burst furth in a gush of passionate and tender “What I meant was that I am at all times ready to devote myself so entirely to your service that every other engage- ment should be cheerfully put aside.” Florina having again bent her eyes down upon the ivory, was endeavouring to commence laying in some colour: but her hand trembled, and she at once made a serious fault. ‘ “Oh! you have spoilt your picture!” exclaimed Deveril. ‘“ Give me the brush—the colour must be removed directly.” But in his eagerness to take the brush-from her, their hands came completely in contact, so that Florina’s fingers let it fall altogether; and rolling over the ivory it made a number of marks altogether spoiling the design. “A thousand apologies for my precipitation!” said Deveril, again overwhelmed with confusion, and taking all the blame unto himself. “Tt was not. your fault,” murmured Florina, in a soft melting voice ; and unconsciously—mechani- cally—impulsively, she extended her hand as an assurance that she was not offended. Deveril took that hand — pressed it—found it linger in his ovn—and retained it in his clasp. Oh! the ineffable bliss of that moment! Then indeed was there the soft transfusion of spirits warmly blending: then was there an indescribable sense of rapture mutually felt! Deveril was no longer master of himself; and yet it was not with a gross passion that he was intoxicated, but with the purest and holiest love that he was elevated to the realms of elysian bliss. He raised to his lips the hand that still lingered in his own—he kissed it gently, and yet fervently—and then, as if astounded and amazed by his audacity, he sank on bis knees at Florina’s tect, exclaiming, “ Pardon—pardon me!” He had suddenly relinquished her hand: but she gave it to him again in a hurried and bewildered manner,—murmuring ina broken voice, “ Rise, Mr. Deveril—for heaven’s sake, rise ! come in, what would be thought >——I who am be- tfothed to another!”—and suddenly overpowered by this idea she burst into tears. “Oh, you weep! you weep!” exclaimed Deveril, starting up from his kneeling posture and resuming his chair by herside. “ But those words which you have uttered——they prove——they confirm the wildest hopes——Oh, that this may not be adream !” “Mr. Deverill, IL am unhappy—very, very un- happy, murmured poor Florina, gazing upon him through her tears. “ Leave me, forget this moment of weakness on my part——” “You bid me leave you?” said Deveril, in @ mournful voice and with a reproachful look. “ What —leave you at a moment when it appeared as if heaven itself were opening above me?” “Oh, if I could tell you all I wish to say,” ex claimed Florina, with more passionate vehemence than she had ever shown in her iife betura “is ma a a ae ee 0S a Ce nS 0 Ee Eee If any one should © 0)(0)(0) CS (E()