CHAPTER VIII.
THE BREAKFAST.
Every one has felt, some time or other, that when the first warmth of indignation against a loved object begins to cool, the recollection of a thousand tender reminiscences comes floating in to soften and subdue resentment; and that many an ebb and flow of fondness must take place before the deep trace of love is washed from our remembrance. Thus it was with Lady Adeline: there was a lurking weakness in her heart (if the tenacity of true love can he called a weakness), which made her loath to cast Lord Albert thence, even if he were guilty, for the moment, of deserting her.
Even in that case she thought he might be reclaimed. It was difficult, it was impossible, to fathom the heart: who had a right to do so? and with these thoughts she condemned herself as wrong and precipitate in her judgment. The best, she conceived, that remained for her to do, under her present painful circumstances, would be to retire to the country, and await there the issue of his determination; but not to brave him. Under the impression of these feelings, she lamented having yielded her consent to be present at the breakfast.
"If I am to see him there," she exclaimed inwardly, "devoted to another, what good end will it answer thus to add anguish to anguish? And, at all events, Albert will think better of me if I avoid his presence, and, by so doing, show how much I feel, and how little I am desirous of prying into his conduct."
Lady Dunmelraise soon saw that such were the feelings of her daughter, when, in the course of the day, a recurrence was made to the subject of the breakfast; and it was with pleasure that she received a visit from her sister, Lady Delamere, in the evening, from the hope that her persuasions, joined to those which she had already availed herself of, might have additional weight with Lady Adeline.
Many concurring circumstances had led both Lady Dunmelraise and Lady Delamere to the conviction that Lord Albert was wholly undeserving of such a treasure, and induced the suspicion that he perhaps enjoyed the consciousness of being beloved by her daughter, while, at the same time, he played with her feelings, and sacrificed them remorselessly at the shrine of his own vanity. To impress their opinions upon her Adeline's mind, Lady Dunmelraise conceived to be absolutely necessary, with a view to wean her from her strong attachment: and so convinced was she of the necessity of this measure, in order to restore Lady Adeline to any thing like happiness, that much as it pained Lady Dunmelraise to make her herself the witness of Lord Albert's desertion and insincerity, yet she felt convinced that to do so would be at once the kindest and most effectual measure.
In this she was confirmed by Lady Delamere; and with all the persuasion of affection, and all the force of truth, they both represented the matter in so strong a light to Lady Adeline, that she yielded her feelings to their direction, saying,
"Well, dearest mamma and dearest aunt, make of me what you will, do with me as you choose; but remember I am a poor automaton that can no longer act or think for itself. I feel crushed, withered, wretched, unable to do any thing but yield a passive obedience. In that I know I am fulfilling my duty; and if I live, that thought must bring peace in its train."