The Mysteries of London, v. 3/4

by George W. M. Reynolds

The first impulse of the Earl was to inform Lady Hatfield that he had overheard her conversation with the King, and conjure her to reflect seriously ere she committed a fatal step of which she would assuredly have to repent for the remainder of her life. But second thoughts convinced him that he must retain profoundly secret the fact of his acquaintance with the understanding existing between Georgiana and the monarch; for in confessing himself to have been an eaves-dropper, he should have to blush in the presence of one whom he was to take to task. He saw it would be difficult to make the lady believe that he himself was so stupified by her conduct, as to be totally unable to declare his presence in a room where a private conversation was in progress; and she would naturally upbraid him, he thought, for what might be looked upon as a proof of mean and contemptible curiosity on his part—although, as the reader is aware, he was indeed animated by no such vile sentiment.

Moreover, in resigning all claim to her hand—or rather, in recognising the impossibility of contracting an alliance with a woman whom his brother had ravished—the Earl had ceased to enjoy any right to advise or control her in respect to her moral conduct;—and it now struck him that, painfully situated as she was—unable to become the wife of any honourable and confiding man—she had accepted overtures which would render her a monarch's mistress. In a word, he conceived that he should best consult her happiness, as matters stood, by affecting a complete ignorance of the understanding so suddenly established between herself and George the Fourth.

Having come to this determination, he quitted the Blue Velvet Closet, and was retracing his way to the scene of brilliant gaiety, when he encountered Sir Phillip Warren in the corridor.

"I searched every where for the Minister, and was unable to find him," said the courtier. "At last, upon making enquiries, I learnt that he had taken his departure."

"I am not sorry that it is so," returned the Earl of Ellingham; "for I feel convinced that no argument, although I should have listened to it as a matter of courtesy, could deter me from advocating the cause of the working classes."

With these words the nobleman bowed coldly to Sir Phillip Warren, and passed on to the state-apartments, in one of which he found Lady Hatfield seated with the friends in whose company she had arrived at the entertainment.

Her manner was calm and collected; and if there were any change, it was in the slight—the very slight smile of triumph which played upon her lip:—at least, it struck the Earl that such an expression her rosy mouth wore, as he approached her. But it disappeared as she began to converse with him; and he so subdued his own feelings, that she did not observe any thing to lead her to suppose that he was aware of her understanding with the King.

Precisely at midnight the supper-rooms were thrown open; and a magnificent banquet was served up. We need scarcely say that the most costly wines, the most expensive luxuries, and every delicacy that gold could procure, appeared upon the board, which absolutely groaned beneath the weight of massive plate, superb porcelain, and brilliant crystal.

The festivity was kept up until a late hour: indeed it was past two in the morning before the company began to separate.

But when the Earl of Ellingham was once more at home, and had retired to his chamber, sleep would not visit his eyes, fatigued though he were:—the scene which had occurred in the Blue Velvet Closet was so impressed upon his mind, that he could not divert his thoughts into another channel. It was not that he was jealous of Lady Hatfield:—no—circumstances had changed his love for her into a sincere and deeply-rooted friendship. But he felt disappointed—he felt deceived in the estimate he had formed of her character: he had believed her to be possessed of a mind too strong to be dazzled by the splendours of Royalty, and to yield herself up to a man whom it was impossible for her to love, merely for the sake of becoming a King's mistress.