Influenced by the solemn sounds still lingering in his ear, Cadurcis bade them farewell for the night, with an earnestness of manner and depth of feeling which he would scarcely have ventured to exhibit at their first meeting.  ‘Good night, dear Lady Annabel,’ he said, as he pressed her hand; ’you know not how happy, how grateful I feel, to be once more at Cherbury.  Good night, Venetia!’

That last word lingered on his lips; it was uttered in a tone at once mournful and sweet, and her hand was unconsciously retained for a moment in his; but for a moment; and yet in that brief instant a thousand thoughts seemed to course through his brain.

Before Venetia retired to rest she remained for a few minutes in her mother’s room.  ‘What do you think of him, mamma?’ she said; ’is he not very changed?’

‘He is, my love,’ replied Lady Annabel; ’what I sometimes thought he might, what I always hoped he would, be.’

’He really seemed happy to meet us again, and yet how strange that for years he should never have communicated with us.’

’Not so very strange, my love!  He was but a child when we parted, and he has felt embarrassment in resuming connections which for a long interval had been inevitably severed.  Remember what a change his life had to endure; few, after such an interval, would have returned with feelings so kind and so pure!’

‘He was always a favourite of yours, mamma!’

’I always fancied that I observed in him the seeds of great virtues and great talents; but I was not so sanguine that they would have flourished as they appear to have done.’

In the meantime the subject of their observations strolled home on foot, for he had dismissed his horses, to the abbey.  It was a brilliant night, and the white beams of the moon fell full upon the old monastic pile, of which massy portions were in dark shade while the light gracefully rested on the projecting ornaments of the building, and played, as it were, with the fretted and fantastic pinnacles.  Behind were the savage hills, softened by the hour; and on the right extended the still and luminous lake.  Cadurcis rested for a moment and gazed upon the fair, yet solemn scene.  The dreams of ambition that occasionally distracted him were dead.  The surrounding scene harmonised with the thoughts of purity, repose, and beauty that filled his soul.  Why should he ever leave this spot, sacred to him by the finest emotions of his nature?  Why should he not at once quit that world which he had just entered, while he could quit it without remorse?  If ever there existed a being who was his own master, who might mould his destiny at his will, it seemed to be Cadurcis.  His lone yet independent situation, his impetuous yet firm volition, alike qualified him to achieve the career most grateful to his disposition.  Let him, then, achieve it here; here let him find that solitude he had ever loved, softened by that affection for which he had ever sighed, and which here only