“And eternity, which to be eternal can no more have had a beginning than it shall have an end, is an idea our minds cannot grasp; and in attempting to define and realise these things we only confuse and mislead ourselves. Take my word for it, Lewis, true religion, the religion Christ came down from heaven to teach men, consists in a sincere, earnest, and consistent belief in the goodness and benevolence of the Creator, carried out practically by an unceasing endeavour to reform our fallen natures after His image.”
“And how are we to gain the knowledge and the strength requisite to enable us to do this?” asked Lewis.
“By studying God’s written word with an honest intention of doing as we are there told to do, at the same time imploring His assistance to enable us to carry out our good intentions,” was the earnest reply.
So the conversation ended; but Lewis thought over the ideas thus presented to him, which, though not entirely new to him, or indeed to any other reflecting mind, had perhaps never before occurred in a light so clear and practical as that in which Frere had placed them; and as by slow degrees his strength began to return, and with Antonelli’s assistance he contrived to creep for an hour at a time to his painting-room, he arose from that couch of sickness a wiser and a better man.
As soon as Charles Leicester had recovered from the first shock of his brother’s death he determined to entrust his wife and child to the care of General Grant, while he started for England to break the distressing intelligence to his father. Lord Ashford was now becoming an old man, and although the profligate career of his eldest son had caused him the deepest anxiety and regret, he still regarded him with much affection; and Leicester had only too good reason to dread the effect which might be produced upon him if, by any accident, he were to become aware of the fatal event without sufficient preparation. Accordingly, on the second day after the discovery of the catastrophe, he quitted Venice, and travelled day and night till he reached England; but fast as he journeyed, the evil tidings journeyed still more swiftly: a rumour of the truth had somehow found its way to the London clubs; at one to which he belonged Lord Ashford had accidentally overheard the affair discussed, and while uttering a half-frantic inquiry in regard to the speaker’s authority, was seized with a fit, from which he recovered only to remain a heart-broken man, paralysed and childish. Charles finding him in this deplorable state, was of course unable to leave him, and wrote to Laura to beg that no unnecessary delay might occur to prevent her joining him as soon as possible. Under these circumstances, General Grant resolved to proceed to England at once, with the party under his charge.
When Frere’s anxiety for Lewis’s life had ended, and he felt satisfied that he was on the road towards recovery, and might safely be entrusted to the care of Antonelli, he had made his way to the Palazzo Grassini, and seeking an interview with General Grant, had explained to him the object which had brought him to Venice, together with the train of events which had hitherto prevented his announcing his arrival. He also gave an account of the fracas between Lord Belle-field and Lewis at the Casino, and his friend’s subsequent self-conquest, in resolving for conscience’ sake to forego his revenge; but he said nothing of Lewis’s attachment to Annie, feeling that he had no right to betray his confidence to the General without obtaining his consent to the measure.
General Grant was much interested by this recital, and highly extolled Lewis’s conduct throughout the whole affair, the shock of Lord Bellefield’s death having taken away any little prejudices in favour of duelling which might have lingered in the chivalrous mind of the old soldier. He thought, however, that considering the relative positions of the different parties, it would be better for him not to visit Lewis so soon after the awful catastrophe which had taken place, but he sent him a kind message by Frere, saying he should hope to see him on his return to England, and thanking him for his interference in Walter’s behalf.
On the morning previous to that fixed for the departure of Laura and her friends, Lewis, having over-exerted himself the day before by painting for several hours, and having paid the penalty by lying awake during great part of the night, had fallen into a deep sleep, which lasted so long, that Frere, having breakfasted and given orders that Lewis was on no account to be disturbed, went out. He had undertaken, with his usual good nature, innumerable commissions for the General; these he set to work diligently to execute, and after wandering up and down the lanes and squares of Venice, now trudging like an excited postman, now sitting bolt upright in the stern of a gondola, with the cotton umbrella spread like a gigantic mushroom over his head to keep off the sun, he arrived, hot and tired, at the Palazzo Grassini. General Grant was from home, so Frere left a card, saying he would call later in the afternoon; then, considering on second thoughts that it would not be kind, as he had been out so long, to leave Lewis again on the same day, he altered his determination, and desiring to be shown into the library, sent a message to ask to be allowed to speak to Mrs. Leicester, or to Miss Grant. Now the servant to whom this message was entrusted, being, like many of his betters, averse to needless trouble, and chancing to encounter Annie as he was proceeding from the library to the drawing-room, saw fit slightly to alter the tenor of his message, and leaving out all mention of Laura, informed Miss Grant that a gentleman of the name of Frere, having called to visit the General, had, on learning that he was from home, asked to be allowed to see her. This intelligence rather flurried Annie, Frere being always connected in her mind with the idea of Lewis, and it was not without a degree of trepidation, which mantled her cheek with a most becoming blush, that she hastened to comply with his summons.
When Frere perceived who it was that his message had produced, a scheme, which had suggested itself to him as a vague possibility, as he had sat by Lewis’s bedside listening to the ravings of his delirium, recurred to his mind, as a right and advisable step which it behoved him to take, now that chance had thrown the opportunity in his way; his first business, however, was to deliver himself of the commissions entrusted to him by the General. Having relieved his mind of the weight of this responsibility, he began—
“Well, Miss Grant, I’m glad to see you looking better than you were. I suppose it’s the”—(having got rid of your detestable engagement was his original sentence, but he checked himself, and substituted)—“idea of getting away from this horrid place, all puddles and palaces; the men every one of them either a tyrant or a slave, and such lazy rascals into the bargain; the women, not at all the style of female to talk to you about; and without any particular beauty to account for it either, as far as I’m a judge, though perhaps in my present position I’m a little bit over fastidious; but then Rose Arundel is as near perfection as anything on this earth can be—however, I’m forgetting you don’t know anything of the matter, and all that I’m saying must be high Dutch, or thereabouts, to you.”