‘Then it would conceive something less exquisite,’ said the Bishop.  ’It is a restless quality, and is ever creative, either of good or of evil.’

’Ah! my dear Doctor, excuse me for again calling you Doctor, it is so natural,’ said Cadurcis, in a tone of affection.

‘Call me what you will, my dear lord,’ said the good Bishop, whose heart was moved; ‘I can never forget old days.’

‘Believe me, then,’ continued Cadurcis, ’that you misjudge me in respect of Venetia.  I feel assured that, had we married three years ago, I should have been a much happier man.’

‘Why, you have everything to make you happy,’ said the Bishop; ’if you are not happy, who should be?  You are young, and you are famous:  all that is now wanted is to be wise.’

Lord Cadurcis shrugged his shoulders.  I am tired of this life,’ he said; ’I am wearied of the same hollow bustle, and the same false glitter day after day.  Ah! my dear friend, when I remember the happy hours when I used to roam through the woods of Cherbury with Venetia, and ramble in that delicious park, both young, both innocent, lit by the sunset and guided by the stars; and then remember that it has all ended in this, and that this is success, glory, fame, or whatever be the proper title to baptize the bubble, the burthen of existence is too great for me.’

‘Hush, hush!’ said his friend, rising from the sofa; ’you will be happy if you be wise.’

‘But what is wisdom?’ said Lord Cadurcis.

’One quality of it, in your situation, my lord, is to keep your head as calm as you can.  Now, I must bid you good night.’

The Bishop disappeared, and Lord Cadurcis was immediately surrounded by several fine ladies, who were encouraged by the flattering bulletin that his neighbour at dinner, who was among them, had given of his lordship’s temper.  They were rather disappointed to find him sullen, sarcastic, and even morose.  As for going to Ranelagh, he declared that, if he had the power of awarding the punishment of his bitterest enemy, it would be to consign him for an hour to the barbarous infliction of a promenade in that temple of ennui; and as for the owner of the album, who, anxious about her verses, ventured to express a hope that his lordship would call upon her, the contemptuous bard gave her what he was in the habit of styling ‘a look,’ and quitted the room, without deigning otherwise to acknowledge her hopes and her courtesy.

CHAPTER V.

We must now return to our friends the Herberts, who, having quitted Weymouth, without even revisiting Cherbury, are now on their journey to the metropolis.  It was not without considerable emotion that Lady Annabel, after an absence of nearly nineteen years, contemplated her return to the scene of some of the most extraordinary and painful occurrences of her life.  As for Venetia, who knew nothing of towns and cities, save from the hasty observations she had made in travelling, the idea of London, formed only from books and her imagination, was invested with even awful attributes.  Mistress Pauncefort alone looked forward to their future residence simply with feelings of self-congratulation at her return, after so long an interval, to the theatre of former triumphs and pleasures, and where she conceived herself so eminently qualified to shine and to enjoy.