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Book, page 21 / 460 warmth of her affections. The books on the table were those which Lady Davenant had had in her travelling carriage. They gave Helen an idea of the range and variety of the reader's mind. Some of them were presentation copies, as they are called, from several of the first authors of our own, and foreign countries; some with dedications to Lady Davenant; others with inscriptions expressing respect or propitiating favour, or anxious for judgment. The portfolio contained letters whose very signatures would have driven the first of modern autograph collectors distracted with joy--whose meanest scrap would make a scrap-book the envy of the world. But among the letters in this portfolio, there were none of those nauseous notes of compliment, none of those epistles adulatory, degrading to those who write, and equally degrading to those to whom they are written: letters which are, however cleverly turned, inexpressibly wearisome to all but the parties concerned. After opening and looking at the signature of several of these letters, Helen sat in a delightful _embarras de richesse_. To read them all--all at once, was impossible; with which to begin, she could not determine. One after another was laid aside as too good to be read first, and after glancing at the contents of each, she began to deal them round alphabetically till she was struck by a passage in one of them--she looked to the signature, it was unknown to fame--she read the whole, it was striking and interesting. There were several letters in the same hand, and Helen was surprised to find them arranged according to their dates, in Lady Davenant's own writing--preserved with those of persons of illustrious reputation! These she read on without further hesitation. There was no sort of affectation in them--quite easy and natural, "real feeling, and genius," certainly genius, she thought!--and there seemed something romantic and uncommon in the character of the writer. They were signed Granville Beauclerc! Who could he be, this Granville Beauclerc? She read on till Lady Davenant, having finished her packet, rang a silver handbell, as was her custom, to summon her page. At the first tingle of the bell Helen started, and Lady Davenant asked, "Whose letter, my dear, has so completely abstracted you?"
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