"Pray, however, remember, comtesse, that London is not England, nor England London; although, in regard to foreign capitals, that inference might once have held good, and Paris could be justly said to be all France. But our system of politics, as well as of private life, is one which no foreigner ever did or ever will understand."
The Comtesse Leinsengen gave her accustomed shrug, turned away before Lord Gascoigne had finished speaking, and the whole party soon after broke up, the ladies retiring into the house to change their dress and prepare for the ball.
The dancing was already begun when Lady Glenmore's party entered the ball-room. The whole glitter of the beautiful scene, the perfume exhaled from the plants, which floated through the freshness of the country air, all conspired to take the senses captive; and never did Lady Glenmore look more brilliant, or appear in more joyous spirits. There was an ingenuousness about her which enchanted even those who had least of it themselves, and who thought that perfection of manners consisted only in the refinement of art, to the exclusion of all natural feeling. As she was led away to the dance by Mr. Leslie Winyard, Lord Glenmore's eyes followed her, beaming with love and admiration.
"Elle est ravissante," said Lady Tenderden.
Lord Glenmore evinced his assent to the truth of this remark by a smile, which Lady Tenderden was willing that those around should consider directed to herself; and she continued to keep Lord Glenmore in conversation for some time, to improve an opinion, which it was always her aim to maintain, of her possessing an influence over him. Nor was the powerful charm of the scene, and the circumstances attendant upon it, experienced alone by Lady Glenmore. Lady Hamlet Vernon, in her turn, also acknowledged their influence. The consciousness of the presence of the object of her love, and the unalloyed confidence of the continuance of that enjoyment throughout the evening, gave to her beauty an air of triumph and of joy, which, had it sprung from an honest, innocent source, instead of being founded on intrigue and artifice, would have possessed a power and a charm which, as it was, her beauty missed. As she walked up the ball-room, leaning on Lord Albert's arm, a crowd intervened between them and the dancers; for every body had clustered together in one spot, attracted by some object which was hid from those at a distance.
Lord Albert heard on all sides exclamations of admiration on the beauty and the grace of some person who was at this moment dancing. Their curiosity was excited, and they pressed the more eagerly onwards; till, arriving suddenly at an opening in the circle formed round the dancers, Lord Albert perceived Lady Adeline Seymour immediately opposite to him,—the attraction of all eyes, the object of the concentrated admiration of the whole room. She was dancing with Mr. Foley;—dancing, not with the affectation of drawling over the floor as though she were doing penance, but with airiness and elasticity of spirit, tempered by grace and feminine delicacy. Lady Adeline was not at first conscious of his presence; while, as he stood rooted to the spot, he had leisure to gaze upon her in mingled surprise and agitation before she perceived him: but when she did, her eyes for a moment rested on his, with an expression which, brief as the moment was, shook his very frame. It was an agonized look of love and reproach; for not only did she see one whom she now was forced to believe a rival in his affections leaning fondly on Lord Albert's arm, but in the bosom of that rival the very myrtle sprig which Lord Albert had taken from her at the drawing-room with such seeming devotion. She identified it too well as being the same; for in her bitterest agony, when she plucked it on the morning of the Court, she had told over every leaf and every flower; and connecting each of them with some allusion to past days, and again feeling it to be the medium of a returning act of fondness, how could she forget, or mistake it for any other myrtle? As Lady Adeline now beheld this corroborating evidence of Lord Albert's cruelty and deceit, the colour glowed and faded in rapid alternation on her cheek; she seemed lost in thought; her footsteps became unsteady, and ready to sink under her; and it was a moment or two before Mr. Foley, holding her hand, could succeed in drawing her attention. She appeared to gaze at him like one whose senses had fled: then, as if making an effort to recal them, she stepped forward to continue the dance: but the buoyancy of her motion was gone; her late gossamer footstep seemed exchanged for one of lead; her eyes sought the ground; and when it was her turn to go back to her place, she remained in the middle of the circle till again rendered conscious of her mistake by the other parties advancing.
In this pause of the dance Lady Adeline had an opportunity of recovering her presence of mind; and, calling to her aid the just indignation which Lord Albert's conduct inspired, she felt herself armed against the tenderer feelings; and by what she construed his treachery and desertion, she was enabled to steel her heart to every soft emotion, and not afford greater triumph to her rival, or greater gratification to his self-love, by betraying any marks of sensibility. This idea, together with what she owed her mother, whose feelings she well knew would be deeply wounded if through weakness she made any public disclosure of her suffering, enabled Lady Adeline to rally her spirits sufficiently to go through her painful part with apparent ease and indifference; and so completely did she obtain the mastery over herself, that perhaps no one, save Lady Hamlet Vernon, was conscious of the workings of that breast, the peace of which she was perfidiously destroying. Lord Albert even was a stranger to what she endured; for, blind to the errors of his own conduct, he of course became blinded to their consequence, and never attributed Lady Adeline's behaviour towards him to the natural result of his own in respect to her. It is ever thus:—we look not to our errors as the cause of the misfortunes which befall us, and the pains and penalties to which we are doomed.
From the moment Lord Albert first beheld Mr. Foley dancing with Lady Adeline, he had remained transfixed to the spot. And how can language render by its slow process the thousand rapid feelings which gush simultaneously from the heart, and seem to pass through the mind at the same moment? Jealousy, indignation, scorn (though love in ambush was concealed beneath these bitter passions), alternately distracted him. The mother and daughter he alike accused of subtilty and subterfuge. He recalled to mind Lady Dunmelraise's manner to him; her words especially, and her expression, on the subject of the breakfast; Adeline's feigned indifference to it, now contrasted with her actual presence there, dancing with Mr. Foley. All these circumstances seemed to confirm the fatal truth; and disappointed love and mortified vanity, and a sense of having been deceived, juggled, contemned, were struggling at one and the same moment for ascendancy in his bosom. In this state of mind, the time, the place, the whole scene, save only this one prominent feature of interest, were to him as though they existed not. As the dance drew to a close, he asked himself what line of conduct he should pursue. Should he speak to Lady Adeline in a language of reproach? should he give utterance to his feelings in a few brief words of overwhelming import? No, he would not; it was beneath him. And if she was unworthy, and had forgotten what was due to him and to herself, he would never forget what was due to her. Could he address Adeline with calm indifference?—impossible!—his heart would not second the deception.
While he stood thus lost in thought, like one bereft of sense, the workings of his soul were not unheeded by her who leant on his arm the while. She felt that this very instant was the critical point of all her hopes, and she almost unconsciously pressed the arm on which she rested closer to her breast. Her respiration was broken; her eyes wandered in quick succession on Lord Albert and Lady Adeline alternately; and though she dared not propose to move from the spot where they stood, yet to remain there was torture. At last the dance, which had appeared to her interminable, ended; and Lady Adeline passed on with Mr. Foley, without taking any notice of Lord Albert whatever, as though she saw him not.