During the first months of his absence, Lord Fitzhenry wrote two or three times to Emmeline, once when sending her a watch from Geneva, and again with a chain from Venice; but he soon found more interesting occupations than composing letters for the capacity of a mere child: the boy had grown into a man, and if he did not actually forget the engagement into which his father had drawn him, he allowed it but little to occupy his thoughts.
Lord Fitzhenry first visited Italy; at Naples, he formed an intimacy with the English minister then residing there; and, on the removal of that minister to Vienna, Ernest followed him.
The three years allotted for his residence abroad, had already nearly elapsed; but, having acquired a taste for the habits of the Continent, Ernest begged for longer leave of absence; and by his letters, no less than by the accounts of all those who met with him, his foreign life seemed so much to have improved his mind and manners, that Lord Arlingford, whose purely worldly character saw little beyond such acquirements, agreed to his prolonging his stay; and he was the more willing to acquiesce in his son’s wishes, as Emmeline, scarcely yet sixteen, was still in appearance and manners so much of a child, that any contemplation of her immediate marriage would have been premature.
Lord Fitzhenry, at twenty-three, with excellent and even superior abilities, naturally noble feelings, strong sentiments of honour, and a warmly affectionate heart, wanted only those serious principles of conduct, which his father had neither bestowed on, nor ever required from him. Had Lord Arlingford been asked whether or no he was an atheist, he would have resented the question as an affront; but, nevertheless, religion had never occupied his own thoughts, and had never in any distinct form entered into the education of his son. The companion he selected for him during his residence on the Continent, was a young man of considerable abilities, who had been destined for the law; but who, having been early led abroad, and having a decided turn for a wandering life, was too happy to return to scenes in which he delighted, and to give up Lincoln’s Inn, and studies, for which he had no relish, for the existence he preferred, in present, and the future chance of Lord Arlingford’s patronage.
Such a companion, gay and thoughtless as himself, was not likely to supply the neglected part of Lord Fitzhenry’s education; and thus, although gifted by nature with a mind and heart formed for virtue, in its highest acceptation, Fitzhenry was turned adrift on the world without any help or defence against its snares, except those common rules of worldly honour by which men, who may infringe nearly every law, human and divine, fancy themselves to be guided.
At Vienna, Lord Fitzhenry became acquainted with Lady Florence Mostyn, and that chance acquaintance influenced his whole future life and conduct.
Lady Florence, who had early in life been married to a man whom she had never loved, and whose understanding and character she could not respect, had every allurement, every charm to captivate, except that of innocence. Such a deficiency one might have hoped would have preserved a refined mind like that of Fitzhenry’s from her chains; but, under the influence of passion, artfully excited, and the example of the society in which he lived, he fell completely into the snare purposely laid for him, and became the slave of an artful, bewitching, and violent woman.
In the intoxication of her society, every thing was forgotten or disregarded. In vain were his father’s repeated injunctions, that he should return home; in vain his self-reproaches at losing, in idleness, some of the best years of his life. And it was only when alarming accounts of Lord Arlingford’s health roused his better feelings, that he was induced to tear himself away from Greece, whither Lady Florence and her passive, accommodating husband had accompanied him; and, in the middle of winter, to set off for England with the hope and promise that they would join him there early in spring.
Six years had now elapsed since Lord Fitzhenry had left home. His person, character, manners—all had changed. His “Little Wife” was nearly forgotten; and when she did chance to cross his mind, he looked upon his engagement with her as a mere joke of childhood, and trusted his father would do the same.
From Italy, where he found the accounts of Lord Arlingford were still very alarming, he travelled day and night to make up for past negligence, and found his parent on his arrival, but slowly recovering from a very dangerous illness.