CHAPTER I.
Five years had elapsed since Lord Cadurcis had quitted the seat of hisfathers, nor did the fair inhabitants of Cherbury hear of his returnwithout emotion. Although the intercourse between them during thisinterval had from the first been too slightly maintained, and of lateyears had entirely died off, his return was, nevertheless, an eventwhich recalled old times and revived old associations. His visit tothe hall was looked forward to with interest. He did not long keep hisformer friends in suspense; for although he was not uninfluenced bysome degree of embarrassment from the consciousness of neglect on hisside, rendered more keen now that he again found himself in the sceneendeared by the remembrance of their kindness, he was, nevertheless,both too well bred and too warm-hearted to procrastinate theperformance of a duty which the regulations of society and naturalimpulse alike assured him was indispensable. On the very morning,therefore, after his arrival, having sauntered awhile over the oldabbey and strolled over the park, mused over his mother's tomb withemotion, not the less deep because there was no outward and visiblesign of its influence, he ordered his horses, and directed his waythrough the accustomed woods to Cherbury.
Five years had not passed away without their effects at least upon theexterior being of Cadurcis. Although still a youth, his appearancewas manly. A thoughtful air had become habitual to a countenancemelancholy even in his childhood. Nor was its early promise of beautyunfulfilled; although its expression was peculiar, and less pleasingthan impressive. His long dark locks shaded a pale and lofty brow thatwell became a cast of features delicately moulded, yet reserved andhaughty, and perhaps even somewhat scornful. His figure had set into aform of remarkable slightness and elegance, and distinguished forits symmetry. Altogether his general mien was calculated to attractattention and to excite interest.
His vacations while at Eton had been spent by Lord Cadurcis in thefamily of his noble guardian, one of the king's ministers. Here he hadbeen gradually initiated in the habits and manners of luxurious andrefined society. Since he had quitted Eton he had passed a season,previous to his impending residence at Cambridge, in the same sphere.The opportunities thus offered had not been lost upon a dispositionwhich, with all its native reserve, was singularly susceptible.Cadurcis had quickly imbibed the tone and adopted the usages ofthe circle in which he moved. Naturally impatient of control, heendeavoured by his precocious manhood to secure the respect andindependence which would scarcely have been paid or permitted to hisyears. From an early period he never permitted himself to be treatedas a boy; and his guardian, a man whose whole soul was concentred inthe world, humoured a bent which he approved and from which he auguredthe most complete success. Attracted by the promising talents and thepremature character of his ward, he had spared more time to assist thedevelopment of his mind and the formation of his manners than mighthave been expected from a minister of state. His hopes, indeed, restedwith confidence on his youthful relative, and he looked forward withno common emotion to the moment when he should have the honour ofintroducing to public life one calculated to confer so much crediton his tutor, and shed so much lustre on his party. The reader will,therefore, not be surprised if at this then unrivalled period ofpolitical excitement, when the existence of our colonial empire wasat stake, Cadurcis, with his impetuous feelings, had imbibed totheir fullest extent all the plans, prejudices, and passions of hispolitical connections. He was, indeed, what the circumstances of thetimes and his extreme youth might well excuse, if not justify, a mostviolent partisan. Bold, sanguine, resolute, and intolerant, it wasdifficult to persuade him that any opinions could be just which wereopposed to those of the circle in which he lived; and out of thatpale, it must be owned, he was as little inclined to recognise theexistence of ability as of truth.
As Lord Cadurcis slowly directed his way through the woods and park ofCherbury, past years recurred to him like a faint yet pleasing dream.Among these meads and bowers had glided away the only happy years ofhis boyhood, the only period of his early life to which he could lookback without disgust. He recalled the secret exultation with which, incompany with his poor mother, he had first repaired to Cadurcis, aboutto take possession of what, to his inexperienced imagination, thenappeared a vast and noble inheritance, and for the first time in hislife to occupy a position not unworthy of his rank. For how manydomestic mortifications did the first sight of that old abbeycompensate! How often, in pacing its venerable galleries and solemncloisters, and musing over the memory of an ancient and illustriousancestry, had he forgotten those bitter passages of daily existence,so humbling to his vanity and so harassing to his heart! Ho had beheldthat morn, after an integral of many years, the tomb of his mother.That simple and solitary monument had revived and impressed upon him aconviction that too easily escaped in the various life and busy scenesin which he had since moved, the conviction of his worldly desolationand utter loneliness. He had no parents, no relations; now that he wasfor a moment free from the artificial life in which he had of latemingled, he felt that he had no friends. The image of his mother cameback to him, softened by the magical tint of years; after all she washis mother, and a deep sharer in all his joys and woes. Transported tothe old haunts of his innocent and warm-hearted childhood. He sighedfor a finer and a sweeter sympathy than was ever yielded by the roofwhich he had lately quitted; a habitation, but not a home. He conjuredup the picture of his guardian, existing in a whirl of official bustleand social excitement. A dreamy reminiscence of finer impulses stoleover the heart of Cadurcis. The dazzling pageant of metropolitansplendour faded away before the bright scene of nature that surroundedhim. He felt the freshness of the fragrant breeze; he gazed withadmiration on the still and ancient woods, and his pure and livelyblood bubbled beneath the influence of the golden sunbeams. Before himrose the halls of Cherbury, that roof where he had been so happy, thatroof to which he had appeared so ungrateful. The memory of a thousandacts of kindness, of a thousand soft and soothing traits of affection,recurred to him with a freshness which startled as much as it pleasedhim. Not to him only, but to his mother, that mother whose loss he hadlived to deplore, had the inmates of Cherbury been ministering angelsof peace and joy. Oh! that indeed had been a home; there indeed hadbeen days of happiness; there indeed he had found sympathy, andsolace, and succour! And now he was returning to them a stranger, tofulfil one of the formal duties of society in paying them his coldrespects; an attention which he could scarcely have avoided offeringhad he been to them the merest acquaintance, instead of having foundwithin those walls a home not merely in words, but friendship the mostdelicate and love the most pure, a second parent, and the only beingwhom he had ever styled sister!
The sight of Cadurcis became dim with emotion as the associations ofold scenes and his impending interview with Venetia brought backthe past with a power which he had rarely experienced in theplaying-fields of Eton, or the saloons of London. Five years! It wasan awful chasm in their acquaintance.
He despaired of reviving the kindness which had been broken by such adreary interval, and broken on his side so wilfully; and yet hebegan to feel that unless met with that kindness he should be verymiserable. Sooth to say, he was not a little embarrassed, and scarcelyknew which contingency he most desired, to meet, or to escape fromher. He almost repented his return to Cadurcis, and yet to see Venetiaagain he felt must be exquisite pleasure. Influenced by these feelingshe arrived at the hall steps, and so, dismounting and giving his horseto his groom, Cadurcis, with a palpitating heart and faltering hand,formally rang the bell of that hall which in old days he entered atall seasons without ceremony.
Never perhaps did a man feel more nervous; he grew pale, paler eventhan usual, and his whole frame trembled as the approaching footstepof the servant assured him the door was about to open. He longed nowthat the family might not be at home, that he might at least gainfour-and-twenty hours to prepare himself. But the family were at homeand he was obliged to enter. He stopped for a moment in the hall underthe pretence of examining the old familiar scene, but it wa
s merely tocollect himself, for his sight was clouded; spoke to the old servant,to reassure himself by the sound of his own voice, but the husky wordsseemed to stick in his throat; ascended the staircase with totteringsteps, and leant against the banister as he heard his name announced.The effort, however, must be made; it was too late to recede; and LordCadurcis, entering the terrace-room, extended his hand to Lady AnnabelHerbert. She was not in the least changed, but looked as beautiful andserene as usual. Her salutation, though far from deficient in warmth,was a little more dignified than that which Plantagenet remembered;but still her presence reassured him, and while he pressed her handwith earnestness he contrived to murmur forth with pleasing emotion,his delight at again meeting her. Strange to say, in the absorbingagitation of the moment, all thought of Venetia had vanished; andit was when he had turned and beheld a maiden of the most exquisitebeauty that his vision had ever lighted on, who had just risen fromher seat and was at the moment saluting him, that he entirely lost hispresence of mind; he turned scarlet, was quite silent, made an awkwardbow, and then stood perfectly fixed.
'My daughter,' said Lady Annabel, slightly pointing to Venetia; 'willnot you be seated?'
Cadurcis fell into a chair in absolute confusion. The rare andsurpassing beauty of Venetia, his own stupidity, his admiration ofher, his contempt for himself, the sight of the old chamber, therecollection of the past, the minutest incidents of which seemed allsuddenly to crowd upon his memory, the painful consciousness of therevolution which had occurred in his position in the family, proved byhis first being obliged to be introduced to Venetia, and thenbeing addressed so formally by his title by her mother; all theseimpressions united overcame him; he could not speak, he sat silent andconfounded; and had it not been for the imperturbable self-composureand delicate and amiable consideration of Lady Annabel, it wouldhave been impossible for him to have remained in a room where heexperienced agonising embarrassment.
Under cover, however, of a discharge of discreet inquiries as to whenhe arrived, how long he meant to stay, whether he found Cadurcisaltered, and similar interrogations which required no extraordinaryexertion of his lordship's intellect to answer, but to which henevertheless contrived to give inconsistent and contradictoryresponses, Cadurcis in time recovered himself sufficiently to maintaina fair though not very brilliant conversation, and even venturedoccasionally to address an observation to Venetia, who was seated ather work perfectly composed, but who replied to all his remarks withthe same sweet voice and artless simplicity which had characterisedher childhood, though time and thought had, by their blendedinfluence, perhaps somewhat deprived her of that wild grace andsparkling gaiety for which she was once so eminent.
These great disenchanters of humanity, if indeed they had stolen awaysome of the fascinating qualities of infancy, had amply recompensedVenetia Herbert for the loss by the additional and commanding charmswhich they had conferred on her. From a beautiful child she hadexpanded into a most beautiful woman. She had now entirely recoveredfrom her illness, of which the only visible effect was the additionthat it had made to her stature, already slightly above the middleheight, but of exquisite symmetry. Like her mother, she did not wearpowder, then usual in society; but her auburn hair, of the finesttexture, descended in long and luxuriant tresses far over hershoulders, braided with ribands, perfectly exposing her pellucid brow,here and there tinted with an undulating vein, for she had retained,if possible with increased lustre, the dazzling complexion of herinfancy. If the rose upon the cheek were less vivid than of yore, thedimples were certainly more developed; the clear grey eye was shadowedby long dark lashes, and every smile and movement of those ruby lipsrevealed teeth exquisitely small and regular, and fresh and brilliantas pearls just plucked by a diver.
Conversation proceeded and improved. Cadurcis became more easy andmore fluent. His memory, which seemed suddenly to have returned to himwith unusual vigour, wonderfully served him. There was scarcely anindividual of whom he did not contrive to inquire, from Dr. Masham toMistress Pauncefort; he was resolved to show that if he had neglected,he had at least not forgotten them. Nor did he exhibit the slightestindication of terminating his visit; so that Lady Annabel, aware thathe was alone at the abbey and that he could have no engagement in theneighbourhood, could not refrain from inviting him to remain and dinewith them. The invitation was accepted without hesitation. In duecourse of time Cadurcis attended the ladies in their walk; it was adelightful stroll in the park, though he felt some slight emotion whenhe found himself addressing Venetia by the title of 'Miss Herbert.'When he had exhausted all the topics of local interest, he had a greatdeal to say about himself in answer to the inquiries of Lady Annabel.He spoke with so much feeling and simplicity of his first days atEton, and the misery he experienced on first quitting Cherbury, thathis details could not fail of being agreeable to those whose naturalself-esteem they so agreeably mattered. Then he dwelt upon his casualacquaintance with London society, and Lady Annabel was gratified toobserve, from many incidental observations, that his principles werein every respect of the right tone; and that he had zealously enlistedhimself in the ranks of that national party who opposed themselvesto the disorganising opinions then afloat. He spoke of his impendingresidence at the university with the affectionate anticipations whichmight have been expected from a devoted child of the ancient andorthodox institutions of his country, and seemed perfectly impressedwith the responsible duties for which he was destined, as anhereditary legislator of England. On the whole, his carriage andconversation afforded a delightful evidence of a pure, and earnest,and frank, and gifted mind, that had acquired at an early age much ofthe mature and fixed character of manhood, without losing anythingof that boyish sincerity and simplicity too often the penalty ofexperience.
The dinner passed in pleasant conversation, and if they were no longerfamiliar, they were at least cordial. Cadurcis spoke of Dr. Mashamwith affectionate respect, and mentioned his intention of visitingMarringhurst on the following day. He ventured to hope that LadyAnnabel and Miss Herbert might accompany him, and it was arranged thathis wish should be gratified. The evening drew on apace, and LadyAnnabel was greatly pleased when Lord Cadurcis expressed his wish toremain for their evening prayers. He was indeed sincerely religious;and as he knelt in the old chapel that had been the hallowed sceneof his boyish devotions, he offered his ardent thanksgivings to hisCreator who had mercifully kept his soul pure and true, and allowedhim, after so long an estrangement from the sweet spot of hischildhood, once more to mingle his supplications with his kind andvirtuous friends.
Influenced by the solemn sounds still lingering in his ear, Cadurcisbade them farewell for the night, with an earnestness of manner anddepth of feeling which he would scarcely have ventured to exhibit attheir first meeting. 'Good night, dear Lady Annabel,' he said, as hepressed her hand; 'you know not how happy, how grateful I feel, to beonce more at Cherbury. Good night, Venetia!'
That last word lingered on his lips; it was uttered in a tone at oncemournful and sweet, and her hand was unconsciously retained for amoment in his; but for a moment; and yet in that brief instant athousand thoughts seemed to course through his brain.
Before Venetia retired to rest she remained for a few minutes in hermother's room. 'What do you think of him, mamma?' she said; 'is he notvery changed?'
'He is, my love,' replied Lady Annabel; 'what I sometimes thought hemight, what I always hoped he would, be.'
'He really seemed happy to meet us again, and yet how strange that foryears he should never have communicated with us.'
'Not so very strange, my love! He was but a child when we parted, andhe has felt embarrassment in resuming connections which for a longinterval had been inevitably severed. Remember what a change his lifehad to endure; few, after such an interval, would have returned withfeelings so kind and so pure!'
'He was always a favourite of yours, mamma!'
'I always fancied that I observed in him the seeds of great virtuesand great talents; but I was not so sanguine
that they would haveflourished as they appear to have done.'
In the meantime the subject of their observations strolled homeon foot, for he had dismissed his horses, to the abbey. It was abrilliant night, and the white beams of the moon fell full upon theold monastic pile, of which massy portions were in dark shade whilethe light gracefully rested on the projecting ornaments of thebuilding, and played, as it were, with the fretted and fantasticpinnacles. Behind were the savage hills, softened by the hour; and onthe right extended the still and luminous lake. Cadurcis rested fora moment and gazed upon the fair, yet solemn scene. The dreams ofambition that occasionally distracted him were dead. The surroundingscene harmonised with the thoughts of purity, repose, and beauty thatfilled his soul. Why should he ever leave this spot, sacred to him bythe finest emotions of his nature? Why should he not at once quitthat world which he had just entered, while he could quit it withoutremorse? If ever there existed a being who was his own master, whomight mould his destiny at his will, it seemed to be Cadurcis. Hislone yet independent situation, his impetuous yet firm volition, alikequalified him to achieve the career most grateful to his disposition.Let him, then, achieve it here; here let him find that solitude he hadever loved, softened by that affection for which he had ever sighed,and which here only he had ever found. It seemed to him that therewas only one being in the world whom he had ever loved, and that wasVenetia Herbert: it seemed to him that there was only one thing inthis world worth living for, and that was the enjoyment of her sweetheart. The pure-minded, the rare, the gracious creature! Why shouldshe ever quit these immaculate bowers wherein she had been somystically and delicately bred? Why should she ever quit the fondroof of Cherbury, but to shed grace and love amid the cloisters ofCadurcis? Her life hitherto had been an enchanted tale; why shouldthe spell ever break? Why should she enter that world where care,disappointment, mortification, misery, must await her? He for a seasonhad left the magic circle of her life, and perhaps it was well. He wasa man, and so he should know all. But he had returned, thank Heaven!he had returned, and never again would he quit her. Fool that he hadbeen ever to have neglected her! And for a reason that ought to havemade him doubly her friend, her solace, her protector. Oh! to think ofthe sneers or the taunts of the world calling for a moment the colourfrom that bright cheek, or dusking for an instant the radiance of thatbrilliant eye! His heart ached at the thought of her unhappiness, andhe longed to press her to it, and cherish her like some innocent dovethat had flown from the terrors of a pursuing hawk.