"It almost takes my breath away," he said. "I feel as if I were on the brink of a torrent and had an irresistible desire to jump into it and swim against it."
She looked at the young man in silence for a moment, enjoying his sparkling eyes, and then her face grew grave.
"Yes, it is interesting to get the impression made on a fresh young mind. But so many are dashed to pieces, it appears to me of late to be a maelstrom that engulfs everything in its resistless and terrible sweep. Fortune, health, peace, reputation, all are caught and swept away; but the worst is its heartlessness--and its emptiness."
She sighed so deeply that the young man wondered what sorrow could touch her, intrenched and enthroned in that beautiful mansion, surrounded by all that wealth and taste and affection could give. Years afterwards, that picture of the old-time gentlewoman in her luxurious home came back to him.
Just then a cheery voice was heard calling outside:
"Cousin?--cousin?--Matildy Carroll, where are you?"
It was the voice of an old lady, and yet it had something in it familiar to Keith.
Mrs. Wentworth rose, smiling.
"Here I am in the drawing-room," she said, raising her voice the least bit. "It is my cousin, a dear old friend and schoolmate," she explained to Keith. "Here I am. Come in here." She advanced to the door, stretching out her hand to some one who was coming down the stair.
"Oh, dear, this great, grand house will be the death of me yet!" exclaimed the other lady, as she slowly descended.