‘I wish I could lighten it,’ said Captain Cadurcis.  ’I fear I am somewhat selfish in wishing you to marry my cousin, for then you know I should have a permanent and authentic claim to your regard.  But no one, at least I think so, can feel more deeply interested in your welfare than I do.  I never knew any one like you, and I always tell Cadurcis so, and that I think makes him worse, but I cannot help it.’

Venetia could not refrain from smiling at the simplicity of this confession.

‘Well,’ continued her companion,’ everything, after all, is for the best.  You and Plantagenet are both very young; I live in hopes that I shall yet see you Lady Cadurcis.’

Venetia shook her head, but was not sorry that their somewhat melancholy conversation should end in a livelier vein.  So they entered the villa.

The hour of parting was painful, and the natural gaiety of Captain Cadurcis deserted him.  He had become greatly attached to the Herberts.  Without any female relatives of his own, their former intimacy and probable connection with his cousin had taught him to look upon them in some degree in the light of kindred.  He had originally indeed become acquainted with them in all the blaze of London society, not very calculated to bring out the softer tints and more subdued tones of our character, but even then the dignified grace of Lady Annabel and the radiant beauty of Venetia, had captivated him, and he had cultivated their society with assiduity and extreme pleasure.  The grand crisis of his cousin’s fortunes had enabled him to become intimate with the more secret and serious qualities of Venetia, and from that moment he had taken the deepest interest in everything connected with her.  His happy and unexpected meeting in Italy had completed the spell; and now that he was about to leave them, uncertain even if they should ever meet again, his soft heart trembled, and he could scarcely refrain from tears as he pressed their hands, and bade them his sincere adieus.

The moon had risen, ere he entered his boat, and flung a rippling line of glittering light on the bosom of the lake.  The sky was without a cloud, save a few thin fleecy vapours that hovered over the azure brow of a distant mountain.  The shores of the lake were suffused with the serene effulgence, and every object was so distinct, that the eye was pained by the lights of the villages, that every instant became more numerous and vivid.  The bell of a small chapel on the opposite shore, and the distant chant of some fishermen still working at their nets, were the only sounds that broke the silence which they did not disturb.  Reclined in his boat, George Cadurcis watched the vanishing villa of the Herberts, until the light in the principal chamber was the only sign that assured him of its site.  That chamber held Venetia, the unhappy Venetia!  He covered his face with his hand when even the light of her chamber vanished, and, full of thoughts tender and disconsolate, he at length arrived at Arona.