"Come, I don't like this jesting," said the Marquis; "it is a serious thing; and for my part I am like Lennox, and don't believe in such nonsense."
"Nor I," said Sir Harry; "you are all hale and well; why should you think you will die so early? What a splendid pine!—will you allow me to give you some, Lady Florence?"
"I should think it was enough to make you quite nervous, Lady Arranmore," said Ellen, still thinking on the Weird,—"it is such a dreadful thing."
"No, Miss Ravensworth, we have become so accustomed to it, and brought up in the belief, we are almost proud of our doom,—we have learned to love it almost. After all, I should not like to grow old and—"
"Hideous," said the Captain; "no, no,—whom the gods love die young!"
"I fear, then, you will be the first old man, John, in our family," said Lady Florence, laughing.
"A good one! How d'you like that, Captain?" said Sir Richard, filling his glass. "Your health, De Vere!"
Without replying the Captain drank wine.
"If this is really an established fact," said Mr. Power, "I think it should make you very serious; it is doubtless intended as a warning; and if your days are to be short on earth, do you ever think that, after death, there is an endless existence of bliss or misery?"
"After all," said the Earl, "you are no better than we are, Mr. Power;—none of us know our end."