The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 325: what you’re looking at

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

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF LONDON LIFE. 823 “Well,” replied Dick, saucily, “and Nancy has; “I must go,” sighed Wilmott, “I have not quitted nothing ; so we’ll e’en put our two nothings together | the house for three days. I am tired of cooing like a and begin life upon them, Better a poor home with | turtle in a cage, Ellen must sometimes ope the bars, happiness than a rich one without.” or I shall beat to death against the wires. ‘Sdeath! “You are right there, young man,” said Nancy’s | what a pity it is,” he added, “that duty and incli- mother, Mrs. Bartlett, who was as indulgent to her | nation seldom run the same course! Had it been Rose, girl as she was domineering with her husband. “ Love | not Ellen, how happy might I——God! let me not is love, and all the preaching in the world won’t | think of that!” alter .t.” At about seven o’clock on the Sunday evening “ Won’t it?” exclaimed her helpmate; “we shall | following, Faddle and his victim left the tavern where see. For one, I am resolved to use my authority. | they had been drinking; the latter, flushed with the Nance, go home.” juice of the grape, excited by the raillery and wit of **T shan’t, father.” his companion, who was as cool and brilliant as the “ That’s right,” added her mother, encouragingly. | diamond, as collected as the rattle-snake before it “ Mrs. Bartlett, answer me one question.” makes its final spring. “ You are right,” he whis- “ What is that?” pered, “to give up Rose, “Tis true the girl hath “ Ts our daughver to marry to please you or me?” | charms to tempt an anchorite; but Ellen and ber “ Neither,” said the mother; “ but to please her- | fortune are much better.” self, I have nothing to say against Mr. Pike; he{ ‘Damn her fortune!’ has good home to take her to, and can keep her} “Did you ever observe the veluptuous swell of her respectably; but he is too old to marry « girl of her | heaving bosom as it rises and falls with the pulsation »”? of her heart?” added the tempter. “I have often “So he is,” whispered Dick to his sweetheart, | thought it was from such a snowy billow Venus rose, “ and too ugly.” when first old Ocean sent her forth to gladden earth, The girl smiled approval; and certainly there was Walter Maynard-will be a happy man!” no comparison between the withered old man, whose; “I would sooner see her dead. Hark you, Faddle; features were as hard as the crabstick on which be| if you do not wish to see me mad, speak to me no leaned, and the handsome, roguish-looking speaker, | more upon this subject, The sacrifice Il am now whose breeches and smart boots set off his well-made } bound in honour as well as prudence to make is pain- limbs to advantage, and gave him that rakish-looking | ful enough—add not the torture of recollections which air so fascinating to nursery maids, milliners’ girls, | madden and unman me,” and sentimental young ladies. “TI thought you a philosopher,” answered his friend, Pike, seeing that he was not likely to advance his | with a sneer, although he was secretly delighted with suit by remaining, left the house, followed by Mr, the impression his words had produced. Bartlett, whose courage he had successfully worked; ‘* And you find me only a man,” observed Wilmott; up to the braving of his “better-half.” Poor old | “ weaker, and almost as erring as yourself.” fellow, it was clear he was a novice in love. Hadhe| “By Venus!’ exclaimed Faddle, pretending to be better known its stratagems, he would have sought an | very much surprised, “it is the very girl herself, ally rather in the mother than the father; for in such |} Who would have expected to meet her here? This matters it is the mother’s influence which generally | way—this way. Ellen, if she hears of this meeting, prevails. will weep—her uncle frown. We must not tempt No sooner were they gone, than Dick, whose master | young resolution too far.’’ had plentifully supplied him with money for the occa-}| “I must speak with her.” sion, sent out for fruit and a bottle of wine. Rose} “ You shall not,” replied his companion, endeavour- and Nancy were easily persuaded to remain, espe- | ing te lead him away. cially as the mother of the latter was of the party.| The speaker knew well the being he had to deal ‘The knowing blade told his best jokes, sang his best | with; he was one of those whom opposition always songs—plied the old woman so well with drink, and | inflame and render obstinate. Scarcely had he de- the young one’ with flattery, that before the evening | clared that he would speak with her, than a moment’s was finished he had made a conquest of each. The | reflection told himit was wrong. Probably he would girl vowed that she would never have any other, and | have changed his intention, had not the cunning genius her father’s better-half promised that he should have | Of Faddle applied the necessary stimulant. | no peace till he consented. Rose and her companion were quietly sauntering by “ Don’t forget Sunday evening,” he whispered, ag | the side of one of the deserted squares, where on a he lingered behind Rose with his sweetheart, to kiss | Sunday evening a few children only are to be met her arid bid her good-bye; “ master and Mr. Wilmott with; the artizan and tradesman, tired with their are sure to be there.’’ week’s toil, generally on that day leaving the crowded * The girl promised, little dreaming that by so foolish neighbourhood for the healthy air of Greenwich, or a an act she was leading her friend to misery, poverty, | trip to Chelsea. The fair girl was simply and unhappiness—to all but shame; that the natural modestly attired, as became the humble position she purity of her disposition, and the love she bore for occupied in this jostling world, where dress is made Walter Meynard, which still struggled against ambi- | the standard of respectability, and wealth of virtue. tion, preserved her from. A plain muslin dress showed her gracefully-rounded On the Saturday evening Wilmott received a note | figure to advantage, displaying the contour of her from his fashionable friend, gently reproaching him | innocent bosom; a transparent scarf of her own for his absence from the club, and requesting a meet- | needle-work hung over her shoulders, as if enamoured ing for the following evening. It was cunningly of the support, so closely it clung to them; while her On one part a piece of news was hinted at, LT sa esta brilliant eyes sparkled from beneath the simple straw which the writer knew must interest him; in another | bonnet, the rose in the lining of which seemed pale & capital joke, retailed against a man who had been | beside the pouting ruby of her lips. She blushed > his opponent both on the turf and at the gaming table. | deeply as her young master and his companion | ~~ COMmichoooks.c@