In this way the love, which had flowed like a lava stream through that woman's life, engendered its own curse, and her mind was continually haunted by apprehensions which had no foundation, in fact, for, to this day, Lord Hope loved her with deeper passion than he had ever given to that better woman; but with him the distractions of statesmanship, and the allurements of social life, were a resource from intense thought, while she had so little beside himself.
She had striven to bind him to her by kindness to his child, until the bright girl became, as it were, a part of himself, with whom it would be death to part.
Is it strange, then, that this dream of uniting Clara to her only brother should have been very sweet to the unhappy woman?
Lord Hope had been absent a whole month now, and even with the excitement of her brother's presence, Rachael had found those four weeks terribly long.
What would she do if that fair girl were separated from her entirely? Then solitude would be terrible indeed!
But another anxiety came upon her by degrees. In what way would her husband receive Hepworth Closs? How would he accept the position the two persons out yonder were drifting into? Would he consent to a union which even her partiality admitted as unsuitable, or would he, in his cold, calm way, plant his foot upon their hearts and crush her fond desire out of existence?
As Lady Hope pondered over these thoughts in silence and semi-darkness, Clara came through the window, in great excitement.
"Oh! mamma Rachael! He is going away from us. He told me so just now; but you will not let him. You will never let him!"
Lady Hope started out of her reverie.
"Going away? Where? Who? I cannot understand, Clara!"