The Seamstress; or, The White Slave of England — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

aa THE SEAMSTRESS. 71 eet “Tt is for me to adopt those measures, Mademoi- selle,” exclaimed the Duke, haughtily, once summon the Marquis hither and reason with him upon the folly of his conduct.” “In which case,’ remarked the abigail, curtly, “your lordship will only render the Marquis more obstinate and more resolute in carrying out his aims, Pardon me for reminding your Grace that the Mar- quis has attained his majority and may act as he thinks fit.” “True!” exclaimed the nobleman: then, after a brief pause, he said, “ What course would you sug- gest, Clementine ?” Will your Grace leave the matter in my hands?” demanded the abigail. “ Assuredly,” was the immediate response. “ You have already given such ample proofs of your keenness of penetration, your skilful tactics, and your extraordinary knowledge of human character, that I cannot possibly hesitate to entrust the whole and sole management of this very serious affair into your hands. You wish me, I presume, to appear to know nothing at all of the matter P” ** Precisely so,” answered Clementine. ‘ Nor is if necessary that her Grace should become ac- quainted with these proceedings.” “By no means,” observed the Duke. “ Her health is delicate—and it would be unwise to cause her the least vexation or annoyance. Have you anything more to say?” “ Yes, my lord—one word,” replied the abigail. ** My plan is already shadowed forth in my mind: but there is a means by which your Grace can aid it.” “Speak,” said the Duke. “TI shall only be too happy to further the design, whatever it may be.” “Will your Grace undertake to induce the Marquis of Arden and Lady Clarissa to accompany your lordship to-morrow in an open carriage for a ride round the Regent’s Park, between four and five o’clock—and will your lordship also so contrive that the Marquis shall sit next to Lady Clarissa, and that the conversation shall take a lively turn so that they may appear in high spirits and laugh gaily P” “TI will guarantee to accomplish all this, Clemen- tine,’ responded the Duke. “Then your lordship need not doubt the success of my project,” observed the femme-de-chambre,— “at least if Virginia Mordaunt be the pure-minded, simple, and artless girl I take her to be. But should my present tactics experience a failure—which is by no means probable—I shall not be at a loss for another device.” “TI leave the matter altogether in your hands, Mademoiselle,” said his Grace, The Frenchwoman then quitted the library; and the Duke was left alone to meditate upon all he had just heard, : We oe et CHAPTER XXII, TREACHERY. On the following morning the Marquis of Arden and Virginia Mordaunt met as usual in the Regent’s Park; and as the day was gloriously fine they ram- “T will at, led about for a couple of hours, the minutes flying as if on the pinions of the swiftest bird. Ali! those were happy, happy days for the young seamstress,—when she was enabled to breathe the fresh air of heaven, in the companionship of one whom she had learnt to love with all her heart and all her soul, and who loved her so tenderly in re- turn. And the colour had come back to her checks: —yes—the roseate hue of health was upon that sweet countenance ;—and serene was the lustre that shone in her large eyes of deep and melting blue. The red of her lips had ripened into a more vivid richness;—and the pearly teeth were now full oft revealed in sunny smiles. O God! that treachery should have been at work to mar the happiness of this fair creature of such nymph-like beauty! Yet so it was:—and as she was retracing her way homeward, at about one o’clock in the after- noon,—haying just separated from her lover, with an understanding that they were to meet as usual on the morrow,—she encountered Mademoiselle Clementine. Virginia immediately recognized the Duchess of Belmont’s lady’s-maid: but the latter affected not to have an equally good memory with regard to the young seamstress. Virginia gave a passing salutation and was con- tinuing her way,—when Clementine stopped her, exclaiming, “Surely I have met you before, Miss ? —and yet I cannot recollect where.” “I believe you belong to the household of the Duchess of Belmont?” said the maiden: then, having received an affirmative reply, she added, “You may perchance remember that I one day conveyed to her Grace a velvet dress from Madame Duplessy’s ?” “To be sure!” ejaculated Clementine. “ And now I recollect that you told her Grace your name was Mordaunt. Well, Miss Mordaunt—and how is the world using you? I am really glad to en- counter you again—for on the occasion to which you allude, I felt considerably interested in you. But, upon my word, you are looking uncommonly well—and so sweetly pretty !” “J am very well, I thank you,” said Virginia, on whose cheeks the Frenchwoman’s compliment deepened the roseate hues of health. ‘Has her Grace quite recovered from the dreadful wound which she received in so shocking a manner ?” “Entirely recovered, so far as the wound is con- cerned,” responded Clementine: “but her ladyship’s spirits——Ah! they seem to have fled altogether,” added the Frenchwoman, shaking her head in a manner that was intended to create an interest in Virginia’s mind and thus afford a pretext for con- tinuing the discourse. But Miss Mordaunt was no gossip: and more- over she was in a hurry to return to her lodgings and employ herself in that labour of love-~the wedding-dress. “T presume that you live somewhere in this direction?” said Clementine, perceiving that the maiden was anxious to depart and that she held out no encouragement to proceed in the commen- tary upon the matters concerning the Duchess of Belmont. | “Yes—my lodging is close at hand,’ replied Virginia, “Would you condescend to accompany me thither and rest yourself awhile—or partake of. some refreshment ?” i aS 0 Reetmmemmmeiien cts ee ee a ee VNOOKS (COUN () (EO)