The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIFS 104 gensations were exercising their beatilic influence upon Willian Deveril, Florina was likewise busied with kindred reilectiuns: fur she felt that whatever barriers might spring up in the way of her union with lim whom she thus loved, that still her love would never be impaired, but if there were a pos- aibility of its increasing, it would aequire fresh power in the presence of every difficulty. ~ Nor less could she avoid contrasting this handsvime and elevant young man with the insipid-luoking and self sufficient youth to whom her relations sought to sacrifice her. Indeed, carried away by the current of these reflections, she could not help giving audible utterance to them—thereby breaking a lony silence, during which she and her lover had sat gazing in mute rapture upon each other. “T feel that [ have been too docile, too obedient,” ahe observed, in a low soft voice. “I have listened with even a servility of which I am now ashamed, and with a meekness wherein was absorbed all the proper spirit of a woman, to tae representations of my aunt Lady Macdonald and ts the injunctions of my brother Lord Harold. I never ought to have given an affirmative reply to the suit of Lord Saxon- dale! But while I, on tue one hand, was submit- ting to the control of an ant and a brother, he on the uther hand was acting in accordance with the sounsel of his mother : tor I now unilerstand it all— this alliauce was projected and arranged between tue two families, in utter disregard of what my own feclings might be: But, Ou! L am not to be disposed of iu this uvanner; nor will I suffer all tlie brightest and choices: flowers of my heart’s spring- time to wither in the sickly atmosphere of society’s conventionalisms, nor be crushed beneath the heel of an aunt’s or a brother’s despotism.” : As Florina thus spoke, her beautiful countenance became flushed witlt ®x@itement—her nostrils di- luted—her eyes flashed brightly—her lips curled with decision—and her bosom swelled proudly. Never had she appeared to Deveril’s view so truly handsuine, so transcendinyly lovely, as at this mo- ment when asserting the spirit of a young damsel who felt that she had been cvereed, but who had re- solved tu emancipate herself from the shackles of do.nestic tyranny. Pde The reader may rest assured that little progress was made in the drawing lesson of that day: never- theless William Deveril remained the full two hours which he had at first been invited tostop. Is it ne- cessary to enter into detuils S8\to how this interval was passed? or can not the teader picture to him- self all the tenderness of that;scene which followed the mu'ual coufessiun of loyeP? There were long periods of silence, during which William and Flo- rina sat together, their bands locked, and their j stances that might arise from Florina’s resolve tc WE have seen that Williaimn Deveril had called at Of HE COURT, ——— renounce the coronet of Saxondale and bestow her hand upon the young artist. But, as in all such cases, there seemed to be a tacit yet matually adopted understanding that for the present their love should be concealed from all the world—that it should remain a secret sacredly treasured up in the sane- tuariesa of their own hearts—and that they should trust to the chapter of.accidents to throw up circum- stances in their favour. Thus ever is it with those who love ia opposition to the wishes of relatives and friends; for there i3 a timidity in love which condemns the heart to keep it secret and forbids the lips to proclaim it boldly, evem though the resolve | be deeply taken that this shall be the only love that can lead to marriage. | After exchanging a fond embrace William and Florina separated, —the furmer taking his departure from Lady Macdonald’s mansion, and the latter remaing alone to enjoy the luxury of a solitude in which she could ponder upon all that had passed. CHAPTER XXV. A STRANGE SCENE Lady Maedonald’s mansion precisely at mid-day t<¢ give a drawiny-lesson to Lady Florina: but we have also seen tut i was a lesson in love that was mu- tually taken, and that two hours had slipped away almost unnoticed by the lovers. It was therefure two o’clock when Mr. Deveril issued from that man- sion: and at this hour he ought in pursuance of his enyavement to attend at Saxondale House t> give lessons to the Hon. Misses Juliana and Constance Faelield. But how could he possibly think of these two ladies when the lovely and beloved Florina filled his heart with her image? Mechanically however he proceeded towards Park Lane; but as he made his way through the streets, he had no eyes for the ever-Howing tide of that hu- man ocean whieh pours its unceasing floods through the great thoroughfares of the metropolis; nor had he any ears for those multitudincus sounds which indieate the bustle, the activity, and the vital ener. gies of the modern Babylon. All his powers of vision as well as all his faculties of thought were concentrated inwardly—absorbed in the delicious contemplation of Florina’s image which was im- pressed upon his heart. In this mood did he reach the vicinage of Saxun- dale House: but instead of preseating himself there, he entered Hyde Park and roved about for some spirits blending in the raptured gaze winch they | time, abandoning hiiaself to those delisious rellee- fixed upon each other: then there were intervals of soft and tender discourse, durin, which vows and pledges were renewed over and over again;—and the time flew away so rapidly that the two hours had passed ere the lovers awoke from their dreamy bliss to the consciousness that time was passing at all. Nothing had been settled’as to any future course which they were to pursue: they had been too much absorbed in the happiness of the present moment to be able to give serious attention to the circum- | What should be do? At length Deveril rose to take his departure. - ‘tions which naturally sprang from the scene de scribed in the preceding chapter. At length he re- collected his engagement at Saxondale House. He ‘looked at his watch: it was half-past three o'clock. It was doubtless too late to give the Hon. Misses Farefield their lesson: but would it not appear pre-eminently disrespectful not to call, offer an apology, and ascertain whether it would be their pleasure to take their lesson on the morrow ? Deciding upon this course, William Dever: bent his way to Saxoudale House, aad was mmediately pm ta tie i A ECORNIECLOO (C S (E()