We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o' the child.
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.
Winter's Tale.
With an air how different from the usual cheerful greetings of the morning at St. Aubyn Castle, did the party now there assemble in the breakfast-room.
The Earl and Countess, wearied with the alarm of the night and the late agitating conversation, scarcely could assume spirits to smile upon their guests and give them that hospitable reception which every one generally felt assured of from them. Lady Juliana, stiff and severe of countenance, scarcely deigned a bow to the salutations of Mr. O'Brien; and the pale melancholy Edmund, who, constraining his feelings, advanced towards Lady St. Aubyn, and attempted an apology for what had passed the evening before, for of his nocturnal wanderings, and her consequent alarm, he had not the least idea: from St. Aubyn he appeared to shrink with less aversion than usual, but when seated at the breakfast-table, his eyes and whole attention seemed fixed on Ellen, who, pale and mournful as were her looks, yet spoke with such gentle sweetness, as appeared instantly to attract him, while the soft and pensive character her beauty had assumed was precisely formed to sooth and tranquillize the too vehement emotions of this deeply feeling young man. Her power, indeed, over the heart, of which all who saw her were sensible, arose from the united charms of voice, person, and demeanor, all of which were so sweetly harmonized with each other as to form one charming and consistent whole, and that, so regulated by the most perfect purity of manners, the most refined delicacy of sentiment, and the most affectionate tenderness of heart, as ensured not only the admiration, but the respect and love of all who knew her; yet more, of all she sought to win or soften. No wonder then if the young and generous heart of Edmund leaned towards her, and felt before the breakfast hour was over that for worlds he could not have pained or wronged her.
Mr. Mordaunt had fixed one o'clock at noon to finish the settlement of all legal concerns between Lord St. Aubyn and Lord De Montfort, the weak state of his health not permitting him to come earlier to the Castle. As soon as breakfast was over, therefore, St. Aubyn invited his guests to walk or ride round the grounds. O'Brien gladly consented, and Laura said she should like to ride with them; but Edmund coldly refused, saying if he went out at all, he should merely stroll by himself a short distance, as he felt languid and unwell. "To you then, my Ellen," said St. Aubyn, "I recommend our noble guest. I need not I am sure request you to pay him every attention; if possible, prevail on him to stay and dine with us: he talks of going the instant his business is completed."
"I hope, my Lord," said Ellen to De Montfort, "you will not do so. The evenings now close in abruptly, and it will be late before you reach the end of the first stage from hence."
He bowed in silence.
The gentlemen and Miss Cecil went to prepare for their ride; and Ellen, ringing the bell, desired Jane to bring her netting-box thither, for she feared if she went as usual to the nursery, Edmund might escape her, and no other opportunity offer for the conference on which her heart was set.
Lady Juliana, as usual, went to her own room, where she always chose to spend two or three hours of her morning alone.