The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 348: what you’re looking at

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

~ ew and the opera was consequently attended by a galaxy of beauty and fashion—many of the Jadies wearing their court jewels and dresses. Lady Wilton, as usual, was in her box: on such an occasion it was impossible that she should remain all the evening alone, or receive a visitor whose entrees in the ex- clusive circle in which she moved was not as well re- cognised as her own. A hundred times during the evening Faddle’s eyes were directed imploringly towards the box. Aglance, which he well knew how to interpret, assured him that its fair owner shared his impatience, and he determined to wait till, the ballet commenced before he made an attempt. The curtain had fallen amid the cheers and plandits of the stalls and gentlemen of the pit, and Jenny Lind been twice called before the curtain to receive the usual shower of bouquets, and make the same graceful, quiet eurtsey, when Lady Wilton rose, to all appear- ance to depart. For a few seconds she stood in the centre of her box, bowed to one or two female friends, and, turning her back to the stage, walked, not out, but to the back of the box. The seducer perfectly understood the mancuvre, and a smile of triumpa lit bis cold features as he be- held it, Experience had m mais e him too skilful in read- ing the heart not P un stand by her actions her wishes and though “Where eff, Frank 2” ded a young lordling, asthe gambler left iy stalls to the club?” «Rather the bower of ¥ Venus. Don’t detain me, my dear fellow, I am waited for.” “ Happy fellow!” “Why 4 said the tain, as he settled his gloves an S, nds, “Ts am tolerably The fact is] ae pher; content world as I find poi DO in ve painted neither fer ute éor ut sen pleasures ; th ; are realities ie for’ me, With these we eft his sta ll, and made hi ip way | through Fope’' i he circle, in whi = ady- ship’s box was situated. The gre headed old man, whose life ae he | duties of his office, ané ie door g ment’s hesitatien, although Faddle had n ot bas : than three timesin the box. He already loo ooked Up him as a privileged person; experience had eet ee learned in all the symptems of an intrigue; he could detect a declaration in the manner of presenting a bouquet, and had been known to guess pretty ac- curately the period in which either a marriage or an elopement would take place. He was quite a chro- nicle for the affairs of the opera—knew the history of every prima donna for the last fifty years—could tell how many fortunes she had received—how many hearts broken—and generally dated his events from the rise or falltof some fresh idol of the temple in which he was an humble but observant minister. “Parsons,” whispered one of the underlings, who was looked upon, however, as a rising young man, “is there any thing in that quarter, think you?” He pointed significantly to Lady Wilton’s box as he spoke. “ T can’t say,” replied the old man, diplomatically ; for hitherto her ladyship’s conduct had been se very reserved, and she was the patroness of so many re- ligions and charitable societies that he almost feared to doubt her. Still he had his suspicions. ‘Who is that gentleman ?”’ “His name is Faddle,” said the young man; “4 great man upen the turf.” “ Paddle,” repeated the aged official, with something | ; ic) Ppy- . fa the } in VE Baha OAV iN like an accent of contempt for the unaristocratic appellation; “I have no such name on my list. Lady Wilton’s is the only box to which he haa th onteoe Humph! ha! yes. What were you asking me?” “Tf you thought there was any thing between them,” whiSpered the young man, who held his com- panion in the greatest yeneration, and was rewarded for his flattery by a confidence which eld Parsons gave to few, for he was ag of his anecdotes as a lord in waiting or a professec 16r-out. “Tf he hands her to her age, and she takes his ips err arm in the crush room,” said may set him down for some relé friend of her husband’s; for it is only wom it are innocent who are so imprudent as to neglect app guilt always studies them, If he first, the young rascal is happy Wilton a——” “ A what?” “A husband,” said the Uly lobby, * and we all arial at that meandt? ef ie The s not i wron ng mi i Mt seated on th ire aL the by the fy f-drawn curtai tha tit Ai Lien | she f the LY Ses thse occupied or oF Bee Fi preong Bi : in anticipate " she sighed ; “1 oe those ; ou here gotten me.” as miele Ob * repeat with an air which how fas which, to do the “Can the wan- i. wi fie | ) he lost? I have e ured agonies to I ne seen others flutter. fie round you, yet dared not to approach; knew they were basking in the light of your beauty, drinking the rich music of your voice, whilst my heart ached to listen to it. You seemed so happy.” “Did 12” whispered her ladyship, reproachfally ; “it only shows, then, how the heart may school the countenance. I may smile, Frank—may mingle in the world again, for I have duties yet to observe— but I shall never be happy again; never—neyer; I have sinned too deeply, too hopelessly for that.” The few natural tears which followed were called forth by the recollection of her husband and her chil- dren, whose happiness had been so cruelly compro- mised by her imprudence, Faddle, although startled at the burst of peni- tence, was too old a stager to be easily deceived, The agitation and voluptuous languor which were visible in her person when he entered, told a dif- ferent tale; he was too politic, however, to contra- dict her; he did better—he kissed her tears away. “ Fear not,” he whispered; “there is not the slightest fear that my impradence—for the crime was all my own—will ever make you unhappy by a dis- covery. In two days I quit England for ever,” ; “For ever!” repeated her ladyship, and he felt her form tremble as it half reclined within his arms mMmIGDOOKS (CO) com