The manner of old Mr. Dunbar, after the discovery of his son's folly, as he called it, was colder and more reserved than before. He was disappointed, and had lost, to some extent, confidence in his son. If, in the outset, he could commit such a fatal mistake, what surety was there for the future? "None at all," he said to himself. "He will start aside at every false allurement."
About twelve months after Lawrence Dunbar had entered upon the study of law, his preceptor, who took a fancy to him from the first, paid him the compliment of inviting him to his house to spend an evening on the occasion of his having company. A little to his surprise, for he had not expected that, the young man found himself in a brilliant party, with beauty, fashion, and the evidences of wealth all around him. Mr. Harker, his patron, took pains to introduce him pretty freely, of which favor the young mart judiciously availed himself. Among the ladies, there was an air of self-possession, elegance, and refinement, such as he had never before met. He regarded them with scarcely concealed admiration; and not without drawing contrasts between them and the unimposing, gentle, yet beautiful Mary Lee. The contrast was not favorable to his betrothed. He felt that she was inferior to the brilliant women who flashed around him; and that a marriage with her must retard rather than accelerate his upward movement.
From this party, Dunbar went home feeling both elated and depressed. He had taken a step upward, and this elated him; but the upward movement made him painfully conscious that there was a cord around his neck and a weight attached to it.
"Why did I act with such haste? Why did I commit this folly?" he said, scarcely reflecting upon the import of his words. His true feelings had clothed themselves in true thoughts in a moment when he was off his guard.
Shame reddened his cheek, but did not silence the utterance within him. As yet, the thought of violating his marriage contract had found no place in his mind. That was a baseness still to be developed. He could regret the folly that had united him, by an honorable pledge, to one now considered below him, but the thought of violating that pledge had not presented itself.
From this time, Mary was conscious of a change. The evidences were too palpable to be mistaken. Dunbar spoke to her of the party, and of the brilliant ladies whose presence graced it, with an admiration that caused, she hardly at first knew why, a feeling of soberness. To her he was changed from that time; and with a consciousness of change, came a suspicion of the cause; for, in conversation, he sometimes betrayed enough of his real aspirations to reveal to her quick instincts more than the truth.
Still, his visits were as constant as before, and his heart, when left to its own better impulses, was true to its first love. Months passed, and the young man's circle of new acquaintances grew wider and wider. Through the partial kindness of Mr. Harker who omitted no opportunity for introducing his student to people of standing in society, he found himself gradually making friends and associates of an entirely different class to those he had been in the habit of meeting. Attractive as he had at first deemed Mary Lee, he was fated to see her attractions waning before more brilliant young ladies of a fashionable education, and fashionable habits and manners. Thus the sun of his love grew dimmer and dimmer, until it ceased to shine upon his heart with the radiant warmth of earlier days. Mary appeared to change. He asked himself, sometimes, what there was about her that could have won his admiration. Her beauty was tame to what he saw almost every day, and in mind, manners, and accomplishments, she was incomparably below dozens of young ladies of whose acquaintance he could boast.
At last, from being cold and reserved towards Mary, he began to neglect her. Weeks would sometimes be allowed to intervene between his visits. The thought of breaking his engagement with her, at first repulsed, was now seriously entertained; and as soon as entertained, reasons fully sufficient to justify the step were discovered.
There were, of course, difficulties in the way, and he felt troubled. But there was too much at stake to give place to long continued irresolution. Before a year after his introduction into a higher circle of acquaintance had expired, his mind was fully made up to cast aside the loving heart that would have been true to him through life.