The Mysteries of London; or, Lights and Shadows of London Life — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

_ . me eee eee wee - 56 THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON, . a a ee purpose; but the threat it conveys is by no means so intelligible or pleasing;” and she read aloud the subjoined lines :— “To Mpuue, CeELESTINE. “Three motives generally prompt a man to pursue a woman in the way that I have followed you—love, money, and revenge. I am not young enough to feel the first, and not needy enough to require the second ; but the third is an object nearest to my heart, and one I have sworn to see accomplished, This evening you wore a white rose in your hair; if, on Thursday even-| ing, there is a red one in its place, I shall know that you are a true child of Italy, and that you have the courage to meet one who will be, according to your determination, “Your Frienp or Enemy.” “ Now, Ceiestine, I can truly discern the reason.of your agitation,” resumed Madame Romani, as she concluded the missive; “ and no longer do I wonder at thé sorrowful gloom that overtakes you when your success has been the greatest and your praise is heard the loudest. Yes, now, my child, I can understand the wish you expressed to de again happy in obscurity ; and deeply do I sympathise with the feeling that called it forth; for I see you dread lest this unknown individual should know the secret of your birth, and publish those facts to the world, which, should they be of that nature which you have sometimes fancied that they were, you might naturally desire to plunge for ever in oblivion.” “ You have rightly interpreted my griefs,” responded Celestine; “it is this that now renders me unhappy; it is this that, when I should feel the joyous ecstasy that ought to attend the attainment of the celebrity to which I have so ardently aspired, depresses me with a sadness that nothing can relieve. In solitude I find my only solace. Am I not right to call this persecu- tion?” and the beautiful opera-dancer, so strangely menaced, fell upon the neck of the friendly votaress of the sister art, and burst into a flood of tears. “Come, Celestine,” interrupted the prima-donna; “Jet us encounter this threatening eyil boldly. At present we have no reason to regard this anonymous note as sent with any other motive than that of trifling with your timidity. What revenge can this be he speaks of? why, if it come from the person you suppose, should he have delayed communicating with you till now, and what object can the interview he proposes gain? » No, my dear child, do not give way to these idle apprehensions. : Should it be, as I cannot help suspecting, the foolish invention of some intrigu- ing trifler, who has shot a shaft at random, and knows not how deeply it has struck into the heart it wounded, you will laugh at these groundless fears.” “ Perhaps so,” sighed the girl doubtfully ; “but what would you suggest ?” “For the mere sake of curiosity, gratify the whim of your unknown correspondent, and place a red rose in your hair. If he should then write and fix an appointment, I will accompany you; and should there be a shadow of danger likely to accompany the inter- view, arrangements shall be made not only to bear you harmless upon this occasion, but to prevent the same annoyances for the future.” “ My kind adviser, it shall be as you propose. I will adopt the directions you have given, although——” and Celestine again sighed mournfully. “ Now,” cried her friend, changing her manner to a buoyant playfulness, and adopting a rallying tone, “if you presume to allow that most unbecoming shade of —— pensiveness to dwell upon your features for another — instant, I shall positively, Celestine, withdraw all the promises I have made. There, that is more like your- self,” she added, as a faint smile wreathed the beau- tifal lips of the opera-dancer. “And now, entirely forgotten, for the present, all thoughts of this most pertinacious intruder of yours, you must reward me for my excellent qualities as a patient listener.” “ How ?”’ . “ By rendering me a little favour in return,’’ “Can you doubt my acquiescence ?” “Then, whilst I pay a suitable compliment to the very excellent luncheon you have provided, do you conclude your toilette, and prepare to accompany me.” “To accompany you?” repeated Celestine, yieldin : to the contagious cheerfulness of her lively visitor ; had fully resolved to remain in my hermitage entire day, and devote myself to study.” : “ And with the sun shining so brightly?” pleaded the other; “ why it is positive sacrilege against nature. Even your flowers, with which, I see, in memory of old predilections, you have environed yourself, are but’a poor substitute for the magnificent to which I am about to introduce you?” “ Whither, then, are we going?” | “ Since the question is very properly in the plural, you shall not be kept an instant in suspense. Weare — about to visit the residence of Lord Walsingham at Falham.” ; . “But, my dear Romani ——” AS --& My dear Celestine,” inten terpeod eae kind-hearted companion, “I will not accept of an excuse. You — have promised me already, and I before told you it was partly to enjoy the pleasure of your socie my way thither that I called here fixst. My is at the door, and now the sooner you are 3 for your expedition the better.” ' . Finding that it was usblein to ‘soibunid eiplsiiae’® persuasion so irresistible, Celestine offered no further remonstrances, and retiring to her ante-room, she re- appeared in about half an hour afterwards, attired in a costume so exquisitely neat and elegant, that the loveliness of her person seemed to have acquired new fascinations from the becoming garb in which it was invested, With some graceful compliments upon her improved good looks, Madame Romani prevailed upon her to partake of the refreshment that she had so liberally dispensed to her guest, and the two then entering the compact little vehicle belonging to the opulent song- stress, they were speedily conveyed along Piccadilly towards the splendid mansion that formed the es residence of Lord Walsingham. ee : CHAPTER XII, LORD WALSINGHAM. Tus elegant villa belonging to Lord Walsingham was situated on the banks of the Thames, down to the very margin of which its sloping lawn extended. The house was a spacious mansion, approached from the road by a broad avenue of lime trees, and was fronted by a smoothly-shayen grass plot, encircled by a car- riage sweep of considerable dimensions, The itself was a modern structure, with little pretension to architectural taste; but the utmost convenience had been studied in its ‘arrangements. Although so near to the metropolis, the pleasure- grounds that were attached to the villa, and indeed GOMIG ooksicom