The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 135: what you’re looking at

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120 Burnaby ; so that I did not hedte what they said When their conversation was done, the gentle- man led us along a passage into a magnificent room, where he Icft us. There were a great many pictures in that room—some representing male portraits with crowns on their heads and sceptres in their hands; and having seen little wood-engravings of similar portraits in the His- tory of England out of which I learnt, I asked Mrs. Burnaby if those were not likenesses of the same kings that were depicted in the book. But before she gave me any answer the door opened, and that lady whom I had seen at the man- sion in the country, made her appearance. She shook hands with Mrs. Burnaby, and catching me up in her arms, covered me with kisses. She was beautifully dressed, and looked much better than when I had seen her lying in bed. Then she was sick and ill, and very pale: now she had a fine colour on her checks. ing her whether she was my mamma? But in- sicad of answering me, she pressed me again to her bosovi, and her tears moistened my cheeks. On this ccvrtion I was not more than half-an-hour with her; und as Mrs. Burnaby took me away again, we met in the passage that same gentleman whom I I recollect perfectly well ask- | had previously seen and who had the star on his” breast.” THE MYSTERTES OF THE COURT. last? I asa her that I had often and often thought of her—that I had cried at night when re- membering how she had wept over me—and that’ I had often dreamt I saw he® bending over my couch and looking kindly upon me. Oh! how fast her tears fell as 1 told her these things ;—-and she was such a beautiful lady! I loved her so—and I felt so happy when she strained me in her arms and embraced me! On this occasion she kept me with her for several hours; and it was evening when the gentleman of whom I have spoken came to fetch me away. The lady ap- peared almost frantic at parting from me; and I recollect that she exclaimed more than once, ‘ Poor boy! perhaps I shall never see thee again’—l cried very bitterly: for I felt that I should have liked to live with that lady altogether. She cut off a lock of my hair; and then having embraced me again and again, consigned me back to the care of the gentleman of whom I have spoken. The carriage was in readiness at a side-door ; andas I was whirled away from that mansion, I felt so truly unhappy that my young heart seemed as if it would break. The gentleman said little to console me; for although he was not exactly cross, yet he was reserved and distant. We travelled for a few hours, and at length stopped at an hotel in some town, where we passed the night. On the foll-wing morning our “ All this is very singular, my dear Frank,” said | journey was resumed in the carriage, with post Juliana, who listened with a deepening interest to horses; and in the middle of the day we reached the youth’s recital. the rest !”’ “ About ten months after the incident I have just _ blishment. related,” resumed the young page, “poor Mrs. | “Proceed: I am dying to hear , Southampton. It was here that my sister was at school; and I was to be placed at the same esta- But here I should explain that this academy was kept by a gentleman and his wife, Burnaby met with a severe accident through a who divided it into two branches—the former con- fall; and after a short illness she died. I wept | ducting a boys’ seminary, and the latter a school very much, for I loved her dearly: but the servant- ‘for young ladies, they having two large houses woman told me that Mrs. Burnaby was not my which adjoined each other. grandmamma at all—and indeed no relation. I re- member that the young woman looked very sly and knowing as she told me this, and bade me not mention what she had said to anybody wno might come to the cottage to superintend the funeral. I thought it very strange, and put some questions to the servant which were naturally suggested even to my young and inexperienced mind: but she would tell me nothing more—or per- | haps she knew no more to tell. The day after Mrs. Burnaby’s death, that gentleman whom I had seen with a star upon his breast, came to the cottage; and the first thing he did was to open the deceased lady’s desk, take out all her papers, and examine them. Some he burnt—others he put in his pocket : for I was in the room the whole time. I stayed in the house till after the funeral, which I remember | was very plainly and privately conducted; and then the gentleman of whom I have spoken, came ‘and took me away with him in a carriage. We pro- ceeded straight to that same mansion in the coun- try where I had seen the lady for the first time ; and there I was again conducted into her presence. She was seated in a splendidly furnished apartment, with those two other ladies who were by her bed- side on the former occasion; and these two ladies having caressed me, quitted the room with the gen- tleman, leaving me alone with the lady. I was then eight years old. She asked me if I recollected her? and when I replied in the affirmative, she inquired if I had ever thought of her since I had seen her It was in the male de- partment of the academy that I was placed. My sister, who was now sixteen, and whom I had not seen for two years, had grown wondrously: she was a fine tall girl, and looked indeed like a young wo- man. She had not previously been informed of Mrs. Burnaby’s death; and when she now learnt it, she was much afflicted.” __ “ Had your sister hitherto believed that the good old lady was a near relative?” inquired Juliana. “Yes,” returned Francis; “ and she was much amazed when I told her what the servant-woman had said to me upon the subject. At that school my sister remained for four years longer, and there- fore till she was twenty: but during the latter por- tion of the time she was there as a teacher or assist- ant, for which she was paid a regular salary. At the expiration of that period she was told by the schoolmistress that a situation had been found for her as governess in a family about to visit the Con- tinent ; and with many tears were we thus compelled to separate. I remained at the academy until I was sixteen, passing all the holidays there, and never being visited by a single soul in the shape of relation or friend. So I suppose that I had no relatives save my sister—and no friends in the world !” “Poor Frank!’ murmured Juliana, as_ the youth’s voice sounded low and plaintive to her ears. “ But were you well treated during the time ?” ‘With that negative sort of kindness which is no kindness at all,” he answered: “That is to say, I was not ill-treated—I had enough to eat and drink, | LE LLL LL LL ECORNICLOO (C SS (€©)