The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 322: what you’re looking at

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

$20 It was an odd way of putting a thousand pounds in a men’s pocket, but we dare say our readers have frequently met with men whose offers were equally plausible, “No,” replied his friend, with a half smile, “the old gentleman has behaved most kindly; and it is not at such a moment that I should choose to rob him.” “ Rob him !” “ What else would you call it?” ’ “Any thing else. How often have I told you there is nothing more vulgar than calling things by their proper names!” “Take the drag, and be off,” “ Adieu.” “ Adieu.” “ Dick,” said his master, “ when you return, loiter about the house, pick up what you can; servants are always babbling.” ‘“‘ Some servants, sir.”’ “True,” said his master, “it is not every servant who answers to the curb like you.” Dick winced, for he reflected on the terrible im- port of the word “curb” in the month of a man who at any time could hang him. “See Nancy again, if possible, this evening ; make an appointment with her for to-morrow; tell her to bring ber friend Rose with her, 1 shall accompany you to the place of meeting.” “Am I to tell her that?” demanded Dick. “Certainly not. You have your instructions, obey them. You know I never waste time by giving When Wilmott separated from Faddle, he sought an interview with -his cousin Ellen, and poured into her ear the tale ot his penitence and love. The poor girl believed him. Humanity is so credulous where the heart is interested, it trusts the thing it wishes, Her pardon was granted even before it was asked. “Do not say forgive, Richard,”. exclaimed the affectionate cousin, “for I never felt 2 moment’s anger towards you. I have beem wounded by your neglect of late, but never blamed you, for I felt assured it was unintentional; besides, | am not the most cheerful companion in the world.” The young man sighed as he internally acknow- ledged the truth of the remark, for his cousin was constitutionally of a quiet temperament, and a sigh involuntarily rose at the thought of passing a whole life with her. The poor girl smiled; she fancied the sigh arose from a lover’s apprehension for her changing health. “It’s nothing, dear Richard; now that we are likely to be happy, the colour will soon revisit my cheek again. I must live, since my life may be de- voted to you. I would linger around you, Richard, soothe your couch of pain; partake of your cares, your confidence; share, if you would let me, in your joys; be your support in sorrow.” : The young man was touched with and trusting nature of his cousin’s ing which was more akin to pity than to love, he caught her in his erms and pressed her to his bosom. To him the embrace was nothing more than an ebul. lition ot a brother’s love; to her, it was like the gal- vanic shock applied to the exposed nerve of a corse—it endowed her with a fictitious life and delusive hopes again, “ This is as it should be!” exclaimed Mr. Briarton, as he entered the room just after the embrace was given, fad Ellen, blushing and happy, took refuge from —— — —— -se the simplicity heart. With a fee]. SE? ge etenenee eee neonate TT TT TT TT THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, } _— em - ee Cle ee Wilmott’s arms in his; “ never look go sly, or blushs Nell. Come, when shall we have the wedding?” o Oh, father!” z J “Tn not less than a month,” said Richard; “not less, Ellen, if you love me!” | i> & The young lady sighed, looked confused—as young | ladies do when such entreaties are addressed to them. | Her hesitation and confusion were but for a moment; | she fixed her eyes with a peculiar, sad expression upon her cousin, Her father took the hint and left the room. ' “ Richard,” she began, “you have asked me a question—the most momentous of my life—a question — which, if sincerely put, makes me the bappiest of human creatures; but which, if not, condemns me to a misery so dark and hopeless, that, much as I have | cortemplated it of late, I feel my courage shrink from.” “Ellen, can you suspect me of deceit?” base “Hear me. If I have a weak, I haye not an ungenerous heart. If this indeed be love, if the feel- ings, the affections, which have so Jong been devoted to you, have indeed wakened a return within your breast, repeat your question; and ob, with what | joy will I reply to it, If not, in mercy do not trifle | with a father’s confidence, or a wéak girl’s happiness ” “Ellen,” said her cousin, deeply moved, “ will you be my wife?” . Exhausted by her feclings, the poor girl threw herself, with all the confidence of girlhood, into the arms of the speaker, whose heart beat as coldly the while as for ‘a sister, and yet he did not inten-_ | tionally deceive her; he made a very common error— he mistook gratitude for love. P The next night, true to the promise N had made to Dick, she and Rose met him bj appc ntme it at the house of an old woman, well known in the neighbourhood a3 Mother Mason, She was the con= fidante, friend, and adviser of half the girls m the vicinity. She lived by fortune-telling really, al- though ostensibly she took in needle-work. It wasa mere blind to her real pursuit. “So, Goody Mason,” exclaimed Nancy, a8 she entered the little back parlour, “haye yéu heard the news?” ‘ “ What news?” demanded the old woman. 4 “Why Richard Wilmott marries his cousin after all. What become of your predictions?” a. “They will hold good,” replied the fortune-teller. “Man may lie, woman may lie, the heart may lie even to itself, rumour generally lies, but the card never,” “You really mean it, then, that she is to marry a poor man?” > “I have said it,” replied the forture-teller, ora- cularly. 7 , “But Mr. Wilmott, they s#y, has lost a deal ¢ , money; perhaps it may mean him?” | The old woman shook her head. She’ either had or pretended to have implicit faith in her art. ‘‘And who am I to marry, mother?” ine “TI have told you often, child—a rich man, rich in comparison with yourself.” | , “And shall I be happy with him?” continued the inquirer with a sigh, for her thoughts reverted at th moment to Walter Maynard. — The old woman was about to continue her predic: tions, when the door opened, and Dick entered | room, accompanied by his master, Px. “Well, I declare!” said Nancy, trying to look very books.com — . + ity ' much surprised; “ who would have th COMIC a