The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 306: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 291 say, “Well, you must manage this business what- ever it may be; for Isee that I cannot help touching on the other affair.” “Now, ma’am,” said the more sedate lawyer of the two. “I am quite prepared to hear what you may have to say.” “IT must commence by observing,’ said the visitress, “that I have the honour of the acquaint- ance of Lady Everton.” “Was it made at night upon the highway?” asked Mr. Marlow. “ Hush, hush!” cried Malton deprecatingly. *‘Do let us get on, if it’s only to save our own valuable time. Well, ma’am,” he continued, turning to- wards Lady Bess, “and so you have the honour of the acquaintance of Lady Everton. What then?” “You recently made her ladyship a remittance of money to her present place of abode——” ‘‘That is correct,” said Mr. Malton. “ Be so kind as to proceed.” “Are you net aware that in consequence of one of yourselves, or else one of your clerks, writing the address wrong, your letter of advice was some time in reaching Lady Everton, and that it caused her a great deal of trouble?”’—and as Lady Bess thus spoke, it was with so much apparent sincerity of voice and demeanour that it utterly defied suspicion as to the point she was driving at. “Spelt wrong ?” cried Mr. Marlow, springing up from his chair. “ No: I will be hanged if it was: for I wrote the address myself—and it’s rather too bad to come and tell me that I don’t know yet how to spell a name that I have written over and over again every three months for these many years past :”—and thus speaking, he resumed his. seat. “fT really do not see wherefore there should be so much excitement upon the point,” said Lady Bess, in a tone of gentle rebuke. ‘Iam not here to waste your time in mere trifles. It is by the written request of Lady Everton that I have taken the liberty of calling, for the simple purpose of asking you to be more accurate in future in writing the address of letters intended for her ladyship.” “And pray how the deuce would you have it written?” exclaimed Marlow: then taking a sheet of paper, he pushed it over to that end of the table near which Lady Bess was seated, adding, “ Be so good as to show me how you write it, since I must go to school againy”’ “Or rather,” rejoined the heroine, ‘‘ do you write it, and [ will at once point out where you are wrong and how you transpose the letters.” “ Very well,’ said Marlow. “ But excuse me for observing that there is a court of appeal even from your learned decision, Mrs. Chandos; and when you have pronounced judgment we will look into the Gazetteer.” While thus speaking, Marlow dipped his pen into the ink with an excited, irritable manner, and then wrote down something upon the paper before him. * Now,” he cried, “show me where is the error. I know it is a jaw-breaking name to pronounce: but as fur the spelling of it, there can be no mis- take.” “We shall see,” said Lady Bess: and rising from her seat with a certain fluttering of the heart, she bent over the senior partner’s shoulder and looked at what he had written. The address was Rhavadergwy, Radnorshire. ——s * And that is not correct!” she at once exclaimed, by way of sustaining the stratagem to prevent her motives from being suspected. “It should be Rhavawyderg.” “Stuff and nonsense!” ejaculated Marlow, quite in a pet; and seizing up the Gazetteer that stood amongst other books of ready reference upon the table, he tossed over the pages until he reached the one that he sought: then pointing to the name in the book, he cried triumphantly, “ Who is right? and who is wrong ?” “ Well, I must confess that you are richt,” said Lady Bess, pretending to look profoundly aston- ished. “I wonder that Lady Everton could have made such a mistake.” * And I wonder,” ejaculated Marlow, “ that you should not have taken the trouble to look in a map before you came rushing down here to give us a lesson in the orthography of Welsh names.” “TI must sincerely apologise for the intrusion,” said the lady: and with a graceful salutation she quitted the room. “Well, this is the most extraordinary thing,” said Marlow, “that ever I knew. Is it possible that her object was merely this ?” “She could not have any other that I can see,” replied Mr. Malton. Half-an-hour after this incident the door again opened, and a clerk announced “Lord Saxon- dale.” The young nobleman lounged into the apartment with an air of dissipated languor, partly real and partly assumed; and nodding familiarly to the two lawyers, he flung himself upon the chair which Lady Bess had so recently occupied. “We expected your lordship yesterday,” said Mr. Marlow, with a somewhat grave countenance ; “and I remained here on purpose, although I had important business elsewhere.” “Very sorry, but couldn’t come,” replied Saxon- dale flippantly. ‘“ Up late the night before—cham- pagne breakfast in the morning—and all that sort of thing :’—and here he gave a terrific yawn. * And I should think that your lordship was up late last night too?” said Marlow drily. “ Yes—up late every night, for that matter. Who the deuce can go and bury himself in bed before two or three in the morning ——unless———” You may spare any addition to your remark,” interrupted Marlow, perceiving that it would have been some flippant indecency. “And now about this list of debts of your’s? Lord Petersfield has agreed that they shall be paid; and her ladyship your mother has expressed a similar desire. Mr. Malton and I, having talked the thing over, do not feel disposed to put a negative upon it: but we wish some little explanation about a few of the items, because we are of opinion that a compromise may be effected with the parties in some instances.” “Well, what explanations do you want? Ihave not much time to spare: for L have got to mect a man in half-an-hour Fa “Meet whom?” demanded Marlow, somewhat sharply. “Only Staunton,” was the response. My opinion is that Lord Harold Staunton whom you speak of so familiarly, has done you a world of mischief; and I think, Lord Saxondale, that it you were to see a little less of him, the better. I donot GomiGsooksrteo