The Steam-Packet: A Tale of the River and the Ocean — page 357: what you’re looking at

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

276 THE STEAM PACKET. ejaculations and sentiments used in romances and novels,—“ oh! then, “you are dearer to me than I thought; and ours will be a union blest by love, instead of lucre. Dearest Belinda, I am not what I seem—what I have pretended to be—I am an honest man—but a tradesman ——”’ ‘* A tradesman!” almost shrieked Belinda. ‘Oh! my lord—why trifle with my feelings ?” | ‘“‘No, Belinda, I am not trifling with your feelings: on the contrary, I am pouring my whole soulinto yourbosom! Ah! this is sweet indeed ! ! A heart that beats reciprocally with another heart—and all for love! You are a treasure, Belinda! I know your noble and lofty soul—and I am not disappointed. You will not despise me—you will not love me the less. No—you say you will not—you will love | me all the same! ”’ : ‘In the name of heaven, my lord!” exclaimed the saionkuell ae not knowing in what sense to receive this rhapsody, and whether it were the preliminary of a declaration that her lover was a mere nothing, or an avowal that he. was a duke in disguise—but she hoped and anti- cipated the latter. ‘Cease that silly expression ‘my lord,’ Belinda—when I tell you that I am no lord—that I am an honest aoe by trade’’—(gentlemen of that profession always use this phrase)—“‘ that my name is Buckram, and that I will make you as happy as Mrs. B., as you would have been as Lady N.” Mr. Buckram fell upon his knees, at the bottom of the chaise, as he uttered these words, and pressed Belinda’ s two hands to his lips. ‘‘A tailor—Buckram!” cried Miss Pifpaf: ‘‘ oh! no—impossible —impossible! You must be a lord—Pentonville said so—we all took you for one—oh! yes, I am sure you are a lord!” ‘‘T swear that I have told you the truth, Belinda,” returned the hero of this sublime adventure; ‘and I now throw myself upon your mercy !”’ | ‘‘A tailor!” mused Belinda, throwing herself back in the chaise, while the blood seemed to flow like a torrent back to her heart from every vein and artery, and the perspiration started out upon her fore- head like huge drops of rain. ‘A tailor!” she repeated. ‘¢ Yes, dearest; and as good a one as ever turned out the suit of a Bond-street swell!” added the lover, kissing her hand voraciously. ‘A tailor!’”? she murmured again; then as alight seemed to dart suddenly across her brain, she ejaculated, ‘Oh! now I see it all. Yes—that accounts for your constant reference to the art of your craft, which I supposed to be an aristocratic fashion! A tailor—oh! a tailor !—a snip—and cabbage !” Gomicbooks co ~~ we Oe