Venetia

  CHAPTER IV.

  Cadurcis had proposed, and Lady Annabel had seconded the propositionwith eager satisfaction, that they should seek some day at the abbeywhatever hospitality it might offer; Dr. Masham was to be of theparty, which was, indeed, one of those fanciful expeditions where thesame companions, though they meet at all times without restraintand with every convenience of life, seek increased amusement in thenovelty of a slight change of habits. With the aid of the neighbouringtown of Southport, Cadurcis had made preparations for his friends notentirely unworthy of them, though he affected to the last all theair of a conductor of a wild expedition of discovery, and laughinglyimpressed upon them the necessity of steeling their minds and bodiesto the experience and endurance of the roughest treatment and the mostsevere hardships.

  The morning of this eventful day broke as beautifully as the precedingones. Autumn had seldom been more gorgeous than this year. Although hewas to play the host, Cadurcis would not deprive himself of his usualvisit to the hall; and he appeared there at an early hour to accompanyhis guests, who were to ride over to the abbey, to husband all theirenergies for their long rambles through the demesne.

  Cadurcis was in high spirits, and Lady Annabel scarcely lessjoyous. Venetia smiled with her usual sweetness and serenity. Theycongratulated each other on the charming season; and MistressPauncefort received a formal invitation to join the party and goa-nutting with one of her fellow-servants and his lordship's valet.The good Doctor was rather late, but he arrived at last on his stoutsteed, in his accustomed cheerful mood. Here was a party of pleasurewhich all agreed must be pleasant; no strangers to amuse, or to beamusing, but formed merely of four human beings who spent every day oftheir lives in each other's society, between whom there was the mostcomplete sympathy and the most cordial good-will.

  By noon they were all mounted on their steeds, and though the air waswarmed by a meridian sun shining in a clear sky, there was a gentlebreeze abroad, sweet and grateful; and moreover they soon entered thewood and enjoyed the shelter of its verdant shade. The abbey lookedmost picturesque when they first burst upon it; the nearer and woodedhills, which formed its immediate background, just tinted by thegolden pencil of autumn, while the meads of the valley were stillemerald green; and the stream, now lost, now winding, glitteredhere and there in the sun, and gave a life and sprightliness to thelandscape which exceeded even the effect of the more distant andexpansive lake.

  They were received at the abbey by Mistress Pauncefort, who hadpreceded them, and who welcomed them with a complacent smile. Cadurcishastened to assist Lady Annabel to dismount, and was a little confusedbut very pleased when she assured him she needed no assistance butrequested him to take care of Venetia. He was just in time to receiveher in his arms, where she found herself without the slightestembarrassment. The coolness of the cloisters was grateful after theirride, and they lingered and looked upon the old fountain, and felt thefreshness of its fall with satisfaction which all alike expressed.Lady Annabel and Venetia then retired for a while to free themselvesfrom their riding habits, and Cadurcis affectionately taking the armof Dr. Masham led him a few paces, and then almost involuntarilyexclaimed, 'My dear Doctor, I think I am the happiest fellow that everlived!'

  'That I trust you may always be, my dear boy,' said Dr. Masham; 'butwhat has called forth this particular exclamation?'

  'To feel that I am once more at Cadurcis; to feel that I am here oncemore with you all; to feel that I never shall leave you again.'

  'Not again?'

  'Never!' said Cadurcis. 'The experience of these last few weeks, whichyet have seemed an age in my existence, has made me resolve never toquit a society where I am persuaded I may obtain a degree of happinesswhich what is called the world can never afford me.'

  'What will your guardian say?'

  'What care I?'

  'A dutiful ward!'

  'Poh! the relations between us were formed only to secure my welfare.It is secured; it will be secured by my own resolution.'

  'And what is that?' inquired Dr. Masham.

  'To marry Venetia, if she will accept me.'

  'And that you do not doubt.'

  'We doubt everything when everything is at stake,' replied LordCadurcis. 'I know that her consent would ensure my happiness; and whenI reflect, I cannot help being equally persuaded that it would securehers. Her mother, I think, would not be adverse to our union. And you,my dear sir, what do you think?'

  'I think,' said Dr. Masham, 'that whoever marries Venetia will marrythe most beautiful and the most gifted of God's creatures; I hope youmay marry her; I wish you to marry her; I believe you will marry her,but not yet; you are too young, Lord Cadurcis.'

  'Oh, no! my dear Doctor, not too young to marry Venetia. Remember Ihave known her all my life, at least so long as I have been able toform an opinion. How few are the men, my dear Doctor, who are sofortunate as to unite themselves with women whom they have known, as Ihave known Venetia, for more than seven long years!'

  'During five of which you have never seen or heard of her.'

  'Mine was the fault! And yet I cannot help thinking, as it mayprobably turn out, as you yourself believe it will turn out, thatit is as well that we have been separated for this interval. It hasafforded me opportunities for observation which I should never haveenjoyed at Cadurcis; and although my lot either way could not havealtered the nature of things, I might have been discontented, I mighthave sighed for a world which now I do not value. It is true I havenot seen Venetia for five years, but I find her the same, or changedonly by nature, and fulfilling all the rich promise which herchildhood intimated. No, my dear Doctor, I respect your opinion morethan that of any man living; but nobody, nothing, can persuade me thatI am not as intimately acquainted with Venetia's character, with allher rare virtues, as if we had never separated.'

  'I do not doubt it,' said the Doctor; 'high as you may pitch yourestimate you cannot overvalue her.'

  'Then why should we not marry?'

  'Because, my dear friend, although you may be perfectly acquaintedwith Venetia, you cannot be perfectly acquainted with yourself.'

  'How so?' exclaimed Lord Cadurcis in a tone of surprise, perhaps alittle indignant.

  'Because it is impossible. No young man of eighteen ever possessedsuch precious knowledge. I esteem and admire you; I give you everycredit for a good heart and a sound head; but it is impossible, atyour time of life, that your character can be formed; and, until itbe, you may marry Venetia and yet be a very miserable man.'

  'It is formed,' said his lordship firmly; 'there is not a subjectimportant to a human being on which my opinions are not settled.'

  'You may live to change them all,' said the Doctor, 'and that veryspeedily.'

  'Impossible!' said Lord Cadurcis. 'My dear Doctor, I cannot understandyou; you say that you hope, that you wish, even that you believe thatI shall marry Venetia; and yet you permit me to infer that our unionwill only make us miserable. What do you wish me to do?'

  'Go to college for a term or two.'

  'Without Venetia! I should die.'

  'Well, if you be in a dying state you can return.'

  'You joke, my dear Doctor.'

  'My dear boy, I am perfectly serious.'

  'But she may marry somebody else?'

  'I am your only rival,' said the Doctor, with a smile; 'and thougheven friends can scarcely be trusted under such circumstances, Ipromise you not to betray you.'

  'Your advice is not very pleasant,' said his lordship.

  'Good advice seldom is,' said the Doctor.

  'My dear Doctor, I have made up my mind to marry her, and marry her atonce. I know her well, you admit that yourself. I do not believe thatthere ever was a woman like her, that there ever will be a woman likeher. Nature has marked her out from other women, and her educationhas not been less peculiar. Her mystic breeding pleases me. Itis something to marry a wife so fair, so pure, so refined, soaccomplished, who is, nevertheless, perfectly ignorant of the world.I have dreamt of such
things; I have paced these old cloisters when aboy and when I was miserable at home, and I have had visions, andthis was one. I have sighed to live alone with a fair spirit for myminister. Venetia has descended from heaven for me, and for me alone.I am resolved I will pluck this flower with the dew upon its leaves.'

  'I did not know I was reasoning with a poet,' said the Doctor, with asmile. 'Had I been conscious of it, I would not have been so rash.'

  'I have not a grain of poetry in my composition,' said his lordship;'I never could write a verse; I was notorious at Eton for begging alltheir old manuscripts from boys when they left school, to crib from;but I have a heart, and I can feel. I love Venetia, I have alwaysloved her, and, if possible, I will marry her, and marry her at once.'