Such was the mood of mind in which Lord Albert entered Lady Tilney's drawing-rooms, and as hardly any of the invited were as yet come from the Opera, he had leisure unmolested to walk through them. They were brilliantly lighted, and filled with all the rifled sweets of the green-house; sweets, which seem but ill suited in their fresh purity for the scene they were brought to adorn.
While the apartments were still empty, he had an opportunity of examining some of the works of art with which they were decorated. He stopped opposite to a Claude, which was certainly a contrast to the feelings of his own mind. The glowing sunrise, the dancing wave, the palace of the Medici, the business of a sea-port, conveyed him in idea to the Pitti Palace. "Often as that subject has been repeated," he said, turning to Mr. Francis Ombre, "by the same pencil, it is always new, always redolent of repose and pleasure; the scintillating sunbeams are still emblematic of that dancing of the heart, which in the morning of our days gilds every thing with beauty: no, there is no after-pleasure which can equal the sunrise of existence; and if ever picture conveyed a moral truth, the pictures of Claude most assuredly have this power."
"Yes," replied Mr. Ombre, "I love to sun myself at a Claude, it is the only sun one does see in this climate." Lord Albert passed on, sighing as he went, and his attention was again arrested by an antique bust of Psyche: "What refinement of tenderness in the eyelid; what soul in the curvature of the lip! how the line swells, and then is lost again in the almost dimpling roundness of the chin! how child-like, and yet how replete with meaning, the turn of the head and neck! it is at once the bud, the flower, the fruit of beauty amalgamated and embodied in the marble."
It was indeed an emblem of soul. And of whom did it remind Lord Albert? Of his own Adeline. His own! there was an electric touch in the thought—was she indeed still his own, or had he lost her for ever? Lady Hamlet Vernon had stood unperceived by him, watching him for some previous minutes, and by that sense which never fails to inform a woman in love, she felt certain from his manner of looking at the Psyche, that it conveyed more to interest him than any mere ideas of virtù could possibly do.
Her agitation was extreme, and she could scarcely master it so as to wear a semblance of composure; at length, though the part she had to play was a difficult one, she determined on fulfilling her assignation; and having previously decided how she should manage what she had to do, she went up to him, and at the very moment he was asking himself whether or not he had lost Adeline for ever, a soft voice awoke him to a sense of who and where he was: he turned round and beheld Lady Hamlet Vernon. The recognition of any one whom we believe has an interest in us when the heart feels desolate, is a powerful cordial to the spirits.
Lord Albert greeted her with an animation of pleasure that he was scarcely himself aware of, and which elicited from her an answering sentiment of kindness, that at once cheered and gave him new life. "I have much to say to you," he whispered; "let us sit down in yonder alcove, which is unoccupied, and where we may have an opportunity of speaking unheard by others." He offered her his arm, which she accepted, and they moved to that part of the apartment. At the same instant Lady Glenmore entered, leaning on her husband's arm, and a crowd followed which filled the room. Among these, Mr. Leslie Winyard and Lady Tenderden were conspicuous personages: but Lady Glenmore was the nouveauté du jour. When Georgina Melcomb was an unmarried girl, nobody looked at her, or thought about her; but now that she was to play a part, and in her turn become a card to play in the game of fashion, all eyes were fixed upon her. At this moment she was the very picture of innocent happiness, and in the countenance of her husband shone the reflection of her own felicity. There is something in that sort of happiness which involuntarily inspires respect, and to all hearts that are not dead to nature, there is awakened a simultaneous sensation of pleasure.
But yet there are serpents in the world, who, envious of such pure bliss, seek only its destruction. "Really," said Mr. Leslie Winyard to Lady Tenderden, "that is a fine-looking creature!" speaking of Lady Glenmore as she stood talking with animation to her husband, "and when she has rubbed off a little of her coarseness, and become somewhat less conjugally affected, I don't know but what I may do her the honour to talk to her sometimes myself." Lady Tenderden laughed as she replied,
"There is no saying how condescending you may become—but when do you intend to begin? don't you see that if she is allowed to go on in this way, she will never get out Of it? and as I have undertaken her education myself, I do beg that you will by some contrivance unhook her from Lord Glenmore, and leave me to engage his attention while I make my pupil over to you for the evening, vraiment ça vaut la peine; only la jeune Ladi est tant soit peu maussade et il faut la mettre sur le bon chemin."