The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 325: what you’re looking at

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

310 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. told her.” sweet beyond description—it is paradise ineffable !” “I preserved that secret religiously until it trans- | —and again did William Deveril press the young pired as one of the consequences of the duel, Yes | maiden to his heart. “ Think you, sweet Florina,” —I preserved it for your sake, Florina ; because I | he continued after a pause, “ that your absence deemed it to be a secret of so solemn a character | from the Castle will be noticed? think you that that it ought not to be revealed, even to a sister, | there is any danger of our being intruded upon ?” until you should vouchsafe the permission. Icon-| “No: my aunt will not come out this morning— sidered it to be your secret even more than mine, | Miss Farefield has gone to ride with a gentleman of because I knew how you were situated in respect to | the neighbourhood—and Lady Saxondale intimated Edmund Saxondale, and I thought it best to retain | after breakfast that she should be occupied for everythin~ closely locked up in my own heart until | several hours in writing letters.” you, in your own good time, should have toldme| “If, then, we may safely enjoy another half-hour that there was no longer need for such secrecy.” of each other’s society,” said Deveril, “ I will narrate “You are all kindness and consideration, William, | to you a few incidents connected with myself and as you are all that is generous and noble,” said; Angela. This is the time, my beloved Florina, for Florina, with affection beaming in her beauteous | the fullest confidence.” blue eyes; and as she gazed upon her lover her| “I shall listen,” responded the young lady, “ with countenance reflected the emotions that swelled in | a most heartfelt interest. Everything that regards her soul deeper and happier than she had ever yet | you, William, is now of consequence to me. If experienced in her whole life—unless an exception | you have sorrows to speak of, I can sympathize with must be made for that day on which this love of | them: and if you tell me of joys and reminiscences her’s was first avowed and the reciprocal passion | of past happiness, I can share the delights accom- confessed, panying your retrospection.” “When forced into that duel,” resumed Deveril, “ You will not expect to hear, Florina, that Iam “and seeing myself standing as it were face to face | of good family or of gentle birth,” resumed Deveril ; with death, I adopted those measures which pru- | “and it was perhaps some little false pride on my dence and my own honour demanded. I wrote | part that prevented me from proffering certain ex- several letters, to be delivered in case I fell. One | planations on that memorable and happy day when was to you, Florina—assuring you of mine inno- | you first suffered me to know that I loved you not cence as well as of my love, and beseeching that | in vain. I had it on the tip of my tongue to tell you would sometimes bestow a thought on him | you that Angela was my sister; but I knew you not whose heart had been so devotedly your’s,” then as I know you now, and I feared that it might “OQ William! what must you have suffered!”— | shock those lofty notions in which you have been and the beautiful creature threw her arms round his | reared—and I at all events thought it better to neck and kissed him of her own accord: but as she | reserve that and other explanations until another withdrew her countenance again, she left upon his | occasion. Had I been more candid,—or rather had cheeks the tears that had started from her blue |I then appreciated as I ought to have done the eyes. generosity of your nature, which enables you to “Am I not now fully recompensed?” exclaimed | rise superior to the artificial conventionalisms of Deveril, with enthusiastic fondness. “ But let me | aristocratic circles, — how much unhappiness continue. Another letter was to my sister Angela, | would have been spared us both! However, the bidding her the tenderest farewells; and a third | past cannot be recalled, much as it may be re- was to Mr. Gunthorpe. In this letter I gave him | gretted; and I will now tell you my story.” the fullest explanation how I had been provoked to} “Proceed, dearest William,” said Florina: “I a duel by Lord Harold Staunton; and I revealed to | am all attention.” him the secret of my devoted love for you—beseech- | ‘ My earliest reminiscences,” commenced Deveril, ing that in case I fell, he would personally become | “are connected with a troop of strolling players, to the bearer of the letter which I had written to you, | which company my father and mother belonged. my sweet Florina,—so that he might tell you all he | Their name was Deveril. I am about a year older knew of my character and help to corroborate the | than my sister Angela; and I recollect that in her assurances [ had penned of my innocence towards | infancy she was one of the most beautiful little Lady Saxondale. For two days after the duel I' cherubs that ever constituted a parent’s joy. Al- remained insensible of what was passing around. though in such humble circumstaneces—exposed to Mr. Gunthorpe, visiting my lodgings in Pall Mall, all the sad vicissitudes of a strolling life—our father in pursuance of an intimation which he received and mother were exceedingly kind to us, and treated from my second, Mr. Forester, found the letters and us with the tenderest affection. They were superior perused the one addressed to himself. Thus was it, people in their way. My mother had belonged to Florina, that he discovered the secret of our love.’ arespectable family; but by marrying a poor clerk, “ But wherefore did he not bring to me the letter as my father at first was, she was altogether dis- which you had written, and which was intended for | carded by her relatives and friends. My father was me ?” asked Florina. ’ one of those gay thoughtless men who cannot ap- “Because the express injunction was penned by | preciate the value of money: and with but a very my hand upon the envelope to the effect that it was small salary and a wife to keep, he fell into diffi- only to be delivered in case I should fall in the culties. Unable to pay his debts, and threatened duel.” ' with a prison, he absconded from his native town, “Oh! if that horror had taken place!”—and the his loving wife being the partner of his flight. fair young creature shuddered with a cold tremor From what I have often heard him say, I am but from head tw foot at the bare idea. | too well aware that he and my mother must have course she must be: it is natural you should have| “To possess your sympathy and your love, is SSS ssl sss see a CORNIELOOOKS (€) Va