The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 330: what you’re looking at

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

308 THE COURT OF LONDON If we have paused to place all these explanatory details upon record, it has only been for the purpose of showing that Venetia was not likely to experience remorse or compunction while awaiting the presence of the admirer whom she was now expecting. On the contrary, as she lay pillowed upon the flocculent cushions of the sofa, cradled in the soft sensu- ousness of her own thoughts, receiving upon her slightly clad person the warmth of that bright red fire, in an atmos- phere flooded with the serenely mellowed light and filled with a delicious fragrance, she seemed resolved, as it were, to abandon herself wholly to the pleasure of the present moment in order that she might the more deeply luxuriate in the enjoyments that were soon to come. Thus were her passions gradually exciting themselves and her desires being worked up to the highest degree, not only by the scope which she allowed her imagination to take and the bliss in which she permitted her fancy to run riot, but also by the surrounding influences of the scene. At length, when she was becoming absolutely impatient of delay and wondering wherefore Sir Douglas Huntingdon came not, a gentle tap at the door reached her ear and thrilled like a galvanic flood of ecstasy through her entire frame. She rose, she unlocked the door, and then she flew back to the sofa, a sudden but momentary feeling of shame seizing her at the idea of appearing in that seminude condi- tion in the presence of one in whose embraces she was as yet a stranger. She heard him enter, close the door, then lock it again with strictest caution; and a moment afterward he was by her side, snatching her in his arms and covering her with caresses. But heavens! what words can depict the surprise, the amaze- ment, nay, even the consternation which seized upon her when, instead of being strained to the breast of Sir Douglas Huntingdon, she found herself in the arms of the Earl of Curzon! | But at the same instant, yes, at the very same moment that she made this discovery, did the truth flash to her comprehension. She must have given the wrong letter to the earl! There could be no doubt about it; it was the only way to account for the present occurrence, and, moreover, it was an accident that, after all, might so easily have hap- CONNIE OOO KS (E(@)