Sir Henry wished not to dwell on the thought, but as it flashed across him, his features quivered, and his brow darkened.
He threw himself into the chaise which was to bear him to his home, with alternate emotions of bitterness and despair!
Hurrah for merry England! Click, clack! click, clack! thus cheerily let us roll!
Great are the joys of an English valet, freshly emancipated from sauerkraut, and the horrors of silence!
Sweet is purl, and sonorous is an English oath. Bright is the steel, arming each clattering hoof! Leather strap and shining buckle, replace musty rope and ponderous knot! The carriage is easier than a Landgravine's,--the horses more sleek,--the driver as civil,--the road is like a bowling green,--the axletree and under-spring, of Collinge's latest patent. But the heart! the heart! that may be sad still.
Delmé's voyage and journey were alike a blank. On the ocean, breeze followed calm;--on the river, ship succeeded ship;--on the road, house and tree were passed, and house and tree again presented themselves. He drew his cap over his eyes, and his arms continued folded.
His first moment of full consciousness, was as a sharp turn, followed by a sudden pause, brought him in front of the lodge at Delmé.
On the two moss-grown pillars, reposed the well known crest of his family. The porter's daughter, George's friend, issued from the lodge, and threw open the iron gates.
She was dressed in black. How this recalled his loss.
"My dear--dear--dear brother!"