In the mean time, while I thus pampered myself with rich mental repasts, a peasant would have disdained my scanty fare, which I sometimes robbed from the squirrels of the forest. I was, I own, often tempted to recur to the lawless feats of my boy-hood, and knock down the almost tame pheasants that perched upon the trees, and bent their bright eyes on me. But they were the property of Adrian, the nurslings of Idris; and so, although my imagination rendered sensual by privation, made me think that they would better become the spit in my kitchen, than the green leaves of the forest,
Nathelesse, I checked my haughty will, and did not eat;
but supped upon sentiment, and dreamt vainly of “such morsels sweet,” as I might not waking attain.
But, at this period, the whole scheme of my existence was about to change. The orphan and neglected son of Verney, was on the eve of being linked to the mechanism of society by a golden chain, and to enter into all the duties and affections of life. Miracles were to be wrought in my favour, the machine of social life pushed with vast effort backward. Attend, O reader! while I narrate this tale of wonders!
One day as Adrian and Idris were riding through the forest, with their mother and accustomed companions, Idris, drawing her brother aside from the rest of the cavalcade, suddenly asked him, “What had become of his friend, Lionel Verney?”
“Even from this spot,” replied Adrian, pointing to my sister’s cottage, “you can see his dwelling.”
“Indeed!” said Idris, “and why, if he be so near, does he not come to see us, and make one of our society?”
“I often visit him,” replied Adrian; “but you may easily guess the motives, which prevent him from coming where his presence may annoy any one among us.”
“I do guess them,” said Idris, “and such as they are, I would not venture to combat them. Tell me, however, in what way he passes his time; what he is doing and thinking in his cottage retreat?”
“Nay, my sweet sister,” replied Adrian, “you ask me more than I can well answer; but if you feel interest in him, why not visit him? He will feel highly honoured, and thus you may repay a part of the obligation I owe him, and compensate for the injuries fortune has done him.”