CHAPTER XXVII. Whereof comes this? Never afflict yourself to know the cause. Shall I compare thee to a summer day? SHAKSPEARE. CLAUDE LERMONT could not long conceal from himself, that his present situation offered very little prospect of comfort or pleasure, save that of being always with Theodore. He saw that his friend was followed by the usual train of servile dependents, that flock around the great; and that they desired and hoped that he would, sooner or later, sink to their level. As they could not discover that he was elevated above it, by higher birth or any other gift of fortune, they treated the silent coldness with which he stood aloof, as the result of supercilious pride; and he became of course exposed to their aversion and malice. That he was daily more and more an object of dislike to the mother of his friend, was also evident to him, though the cause remained completely a mystery. He supposed that she regarded Theodore's affection, and the influence with which it endowed him, with painful jealousy; and often would he say to himself: "Is it possible, that the very cause that abates the just resentment I might otherwise feel at this ungrateful treatment, should increase the bitterness of her aversion? She adores her son, who loves her as tenderly in return. For his sake, I can never be at enmity with her; while on the contrary she seems to hate me for loving him, and still more for being loved by him." Claude also fancied, but he did not like to dwell upon the thought, that it displeased Lady Llarnarmon much to view the favour in which he stood with both Mr. Dormer and his daughter. He was constantly with Theodore and with them, and they seemed to derive pleasure from his society, and repeatedly expressed a warm desire to hear of his future well-being. - Mr. Dormer was a man full of anecdote, and well versed in the knowledge of the world. He was particularly fond of youthful companions, and being too cheerful and too good-humoured to impose any restraint on them by his presence, he was always acceptable to them. When in Italy, his house was the general rendezvous of all his compatriots, and he was so well established there, that he could also select from all ranks, those of all nations, whom he wished to include in the circle of his acquaintance. This kind of life had rendered a constant succession of society absolutely necessary to his amusement, and the acquisition of an agreeable companion, a thing not to be ne glected. As he was becoming weary of the seclusion of the Castle, he found Claude's talents and conversational powers not without value, in enabling him to reach the desirable hour of dinner, (for Mr. Dormer was a bon vivant) without expiring with ennui before it arrived. His daughter added to the charms of a beautiful person, varied accomplishments, and a cultivated mind; but above all, a peculiar refinement of taste and feeling. Theodore and Claude had both leisure and inclination to pursue the study of her character, and they found that a daily scrutiny rendered it daily more interesting. Her very faults could not excite lasting displeasure, and deserved no harsher name than imperfections; whenever they led to errors of conduct, every trifling deviation was followed by such sincere and lively compunction, that her penitence was almost as lovely as her virtue. The warmest sympathy, the most unhesitating devotion were the ready gifts of her friendship. Candid and sincere even to imprudence, she could scarcely assume deference, where she did not feel respect; while with those she esteemed and reverenced, she was humble, lowly, and docile as a child. With the proud and imperious, she was almost haughty; with the meek, gentle and submissive. Of a tender and disinterested nature, to be unhappy was to have a claim upon her love; while those who had most to give, and least to plead for, the favoured of fortune, were precisely those whom she was least disposed to seek as friends. Though Venetia's lively spirits and engaging vivacity gave a charm to every society of which she formed a part; though in scenes of gay festivity she seemed born to shine to her own delight and that of others; yet it was not there that she believed her real happiness to exist, nor did she there fruitlessly seek it. She felt that there was ' a deeper and appropriate bliss,' that her spirit was framed to enjoy. And while, at her father's desire, she was his inseparable companion, and shared with him all from which he seemed to derive never failing amusement; yet her own feelings prompted her to seek a life of peaceful tranquillity, in which her pleasures should rather be derived from free commune with those she loved, from the culture of her mind, and from the exercise of her talents. She was therefore very happy, where her father was very dull; and had it not been for a fond yearning to rejoin her mother, could have wished these placid days to be prolonged throughout her existence. Claude thought that he perceived a great anxiety in Lady Llarnarmon to foster the feelings of interest that Theodore manifested with regard to his young cousin; he made this observation in silence, nor did he communicate it, or allude to it to his friend. He was superior to any petty feeling of spite that might lead him to attempt to defeat any discovered scheme of Lady Llarnarmon's, without VOL. III. E. |