CHAPTER XV.

  _Which Leaves Affairs in General in a Scarcely More Satisfactory Position than the Former One_.

  FERDINAND felt much calmer in his mind after this conversation with hiscousin. Her affectionate attention to him now, instead of filling him asit did before with remorse, was really a source of consolation, if thatbe not too strong a phrase to describe the state of one so thoroughlywretched as Captain Armine; for his terrible illness and impending deathhad not in the slightest degree allayed or affected his profound passionfor Henrietta Temple. Her image unceasingly engaged his thoughts; hestill clung to the wild idea that she might yet be his. But his healthimproved so slowly, that there was faint hope of his speedily takingany steps to induce such a result. All his enquiries after her, andGlastonbury, at his suggestion, had not been idle, were quite fruitless.He made no doubt that she had quitted England. What might not happen,far away from him, and believing herself betrayed and deserted? Oftenwhen he brooded over these terrible contingencies, he regretted hisrecovery.

  Yet his family, thanks to the considerate conduct of his admirablecousin, were still contented and happy. His slow convalescence was nowtheir only source of anxiety. They regretted the unfavourable season ofthe year; they looked forward with hope to the genial influence of thecoming spring. That was to cure all their cares; and yet they mightwell suspect, when they watched his ever pensive, and often sufferingcountenance, that there were deeper causes than physical debility andbodily pain to account for that moody and woe-begone expression. Alas!how changed from that Ferdinand Armine, so full of hope, and courage,and youth, and beauty, that had burst on their enraptured vision on hisreturn from Malta. Where was that gaiety now that made all eyes sparkle,that vivacious spirit that kindled energy in every bosom? How miserableto see him crawling about with a wretched stick, with his thin, paleface, and tottering limbs, and scarcely any other pursuit than to creepabout the pleasaunce, where, when the day was fair, his servant wouldplace a camp-stool opposite the cedar tree where he had first beheldHenrietta Temple; and there he would sit, until the unkind winter breezewould make him shiver, gazing on vacancy; yet peopled to his mind's eyewith beautiful and fearful apparitions.

  And it is love, it is the most delightful of human passions, that canbring about such misery! Why will its true course never run smooth? Isthere a spell over our heart, that its finest emotions should lead onlyto despair? When Ferdinand Armine, in his reveries, dwelt upon the past;when he recalled the hour that he had first seen her, her first glance,the first sound of her voice, his visit to Ducie, all the passionatescenes to which it led, those sweet wanderings through its enchantedbowers, those bright mornings, so full of expectation that was neverbaulked, those soft eyes, so redolent of tenderness that could nevercease; when from the bright, and glowing, and gentle scenes his memoryconjured up, and all the transport and the thrill that surroundedthem like an atmosphere of love, he turned to his shattered andbroken-hearted self, the rigid heaven above, and what seemed to hisperhaps unwise and ungrateful spirit, the mechanical sympathy andcommon-place affection of his companions, it was as if he had wakenedfrom some too vivid and too glorious dream, or as if he had fallen fromsome brighter and more favoured planet upon our cold, dull earth.

  And yet it would seem the roof of Armine Place protected a family thatmight yield to few in the beauty and engaging qualities of its inmates,their happy accomplishments, their kind and cordial hearts. And all weredevoted to him. It was on him alone the noble spirit of his father dweltstill with pride and joy: it was to soothe and gratify him that hischarming mother exerted all her graceful care and all her engaginggifts. It was for him, and his sake, the generous heart of his cousinhad submitted to mortification without a murmur, or indulged herunhappiness only in solitude; and it was for him that Glastonburyexercised a devotion that might alone induce a man to think withcomplacency both of his species and himself. But the heart, the heart,the jealous and despotic heart! It rejects all substitutes, it spurnsall compromise, and it will have its purpose or it will break.

  BOOK V.