The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

THE COFFIN 5 fully upon the beautiful countenance of his sister. Sir Douglas Huntingdon also approached and contemplated the pale waxlike face of Ariadne, and at this moment, doubtless under the influence of the fresh air, the stupor abandoned her again and consciousness returned. ‘Behold your sister, Mr. Varian,’? murmured Sir Douglas Huntingdon, in a trembling voice. ‘“ How little is she changed, although in death.’’ ‘‘ She looks as if she only slept,’ returned Theodore, his own voice more tremulous still. ‘‘ Alas, alas, poor sister! beautiful wast thou in life, beautiful art thou in death; and now thy soul is in heaven.” Ariadne heard the two voices, the voice of the baronet and the voice of her brother, and her ear lost not a single syllable that either voice thus uttered. But now those voices ceased, and were succeeded by the stifled sobs that pro- claimed all the bitterness of Theodore’s anguish. Heavens! would no revulsion now take place in the conditions of her being? Yes, she felt a quivering at the heart, such a sen- sation as she had not hitherto experienced throughout her trance; and almost at the same instant her brother ex- claimed, in a tone wild with mingled hope and fear, ‘‘ Good heavens! her lips moved! ”’ ‘‘ Alas, no!’’ said the baronet. ‘‘ It was but the fitful play of a sunbeam through the opening in the window-curtain.”’ “No, no!” cried Varian, in a tone of the most passionate and fervid exultation, ‘‘it 1s no dream, no delusion — There, behold it now! ”’ ‘“ Almighty powers! it is so,’ exclaimed the baronet. “‘ She lives, she lives! ”’ All was now the most extraordinary confusion and excite- ment in that chamber. Ariadne was lifted out of the shell and placed upon the couch, a quivering of the lips, and a faint, or, rather, scarcely audible gasping, now being the unmistakable signs of returning consciousness. The under- taker and his men were hurried out of the room with the paraphernalia of death, Lady Ernestina and the house- keeper were summoned thither, and Sir Douglas Huntingdon himself sped away to fetch Doctor Copperas. Fortunately the physician was at home at the moment; but scarcely had the baronet explained to him, in a few hurried words, the resuscitation of Ariadne, when he exclaimed, “I will Cconnicloooks (C(O)