The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 147: what you’re looking at

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132 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. collection flashed to her mind, bringing hope along I could hear of nothing of the sort. I inquired alse with it ; and she said in an excited tone, “ But did you after that Englishman, whose name I dare not men. not tell me ere now that you would be almost justi- tion: for I resolved if I could hear of him, to seek fied in declaring yourself to be unmarried? What him out and ascertain if my wife were still alive. meant you by that averment? what did it signify? All I could however learn was that the individual what am I to understand? Speak, speak, Etienne! alluded to was.on the Continent, but that his You know not what torturing suspense I at this whereabouts was not known. " I therefore naturally moment endure: for all my happiness hangs upon concluded that some fresh circumstances had trans- the next word that may fall from your lips!” pired to induce the lady to discard the name and “T will soon explain myself, dear Constance,” re- | title sie had obtained by her marriage with me; plied the Marquis, his countenance brightening up and it was under this belief, sweet Constance, that somewhat, or at all events losing a portion of the I ventured to breathe my tale of love and whisper melancholy cloud which had been hanging upon it. my hopes in your ears. Am I so deeply to blame? * But ere I make known the meaning of those words Oh! if you had been less beautiful, less fascinating, which I spoke just now, and of which you have re- less fond, less affectionate, I might have yielded to minded me, it is necessary I should enter into a few _ the calmness of reflection—I might have bowed toa more particulars respecting myself. For you must | sense of duty—I might have smothered this passion not think, Constance, that the large sum of money | of mine when it was as yet a nascent flame. But I which I received in such a manner and for such a| adored you—lI adore you still—I shall adore you service, made me happy. No, no—far from it! It| ever, even though at the expiration of this inter- was the utter desperation of my circumstances | view we part to meet no more !” which induced me to render that service andtake; ‘But the meaning of those words, Etienne ?” the reward. Heaven knows that by nature 1am | murmured Constance, profoundly moved, and her not mean, nor mercenary, nor dishonourable. WNo- | heart fluttering with hope and suspense: “ tell me, thing of the reckless adventurer is there in my | tell me, what did they signify? For I see that there character! I was the creature of circumstances : it | is yet something left untold—something that war- was an imperious necessity that ruled me. But | ranted you to declare that you would not be alto- when it was all over, I felt as ifI had committed a! gether unjustified in representing yourself as a crime and done a dishonourable action; and within single man ?” twenty-four hours of that solemn mockery which | “To that explanation I now come,” responded gave me a wife and her dower, but deprived me of ' the Marquis, whose arm had once more engirdled the former and made me unhappy with the latter, I | Miss Farefield’s waist, and from which she did not sped to the hotel to return the money and insist upon | withdraw. ‘ Within the last three weeks I met her steps being taken for the annulment of the marriage. | whom I have been compelled to regard and to speak But the Englishman and his companions had gone! of as my wife——” Tn order to banish the unpleasant reflections which | ‘Ah! then you know that she is alive? and you now haunted me by day and by night, lembarked have seen her?” exclaimed Constance, in accents jn commercial speculations, not so much in the hope , expressive of disappointment and sorrow. of increasing my means as of amusing my mind,| ‘“ Yes—I have seen her; and when I tell you the For three or four years they progressed favourably | result of our mecting you may not perhaps look enough: but at length a sudden panic paralysed all thus distressed. I will not pause to explain under my schemes, and the failure of a bank threatened what circumstances it was that I met her: suflice it yne with ruin. Day and night did I toil to disen- | to say that we did thus meet three weeks ago—and tangle my affairs from the vortex of difficulty and ! our recognition was immediate and mutual. It was embarrassment in which they were plunged ; and I in the environs of London that I thus encountered succeeded so far that I paid my liabilities with her. She was elcgantly dressed, and had the ap- honourable exactitude, and found a surplus of a few | pearance of being in the most comfortable cireum- hundreds of pounds remaining for my own use, stances, It was rather in a tone of raillery and a Sick of commercial pursuits and financial specula- | kind of good-humoured jocularity that she spoke. tions, I came over to England. Then wasit, dearest I asked. her if she had ever borne my name in the Constance, that I became acquainted with you; and presence of the world? and she assured me she had as to know you is to love you, I learnt to love you not. I next asked her if she considered she had any fondly! Oh, Ineed not tell you over again how claim upon me as a husband? to which she likewise deeply I love you! That I was wrong, cruelly answered in the nagative-—* Now, understand me,’ situated as I am, to whisper the tale of love in your she said; ‘I do not wish to interfere with you, and ears, there can be no doubt: but this love which I I presume that you do not intend to interfere with entertain for you became indispensable to my hap- me. The necessity awhich compelled me to marry piness—it gave me a new existence—and it seemed | you was of a transient character: the purpose was jo promise felicity for the future, Could I resign | served on the instant; and if we could now unmarry it -—could I abandon this dream of bliss ?_ Besides, | ourselves I should be full willing.’—These words during the interyal which had then elapsed since my | sent a thrill of joy to my heart. She observed my marriage—that fatal, that cursed marriage,—I had | emotion, and went on to say, ‘ Although we are such never seen my wife—never heard of her—could not | strangers to each other, and although I consequently even learn what had become of her—and had never , know so little of you, yet you may rest assured that even caught the faintest whisper to the effect that | what trifling amount of feeling I do experience in there was a being in the world bearing the name of , the matter, is rather of a friendly character than the Marchioness of Villebelle. Secretly did I pro- | otherwise; and I think by your manner there is secute inquiries in London to ascertain if suchalady something you would wish at my hands. If so, were known in the circles of fashion: but to my joy speak; and hesitate not. Do you want money ?’— a LN, ee ECOMMICcoookxs (€©)