THE Duke, although not possessed of the most delicate feelings, it may be supposed was not insensible to his dishonour.  He immediately set about taking the legal measures for avenging it; and damages were awarded, which would have the effect of rendering Lord Lindore for ever an alien to his country.  Lady Juliana raved, and had hysterics, and seemed to consider herself as the only sufferer by her daughter’s misconduct.  At one time Adelaide’s ingratitude was all her theme:  at another, it was Lord Lindore’s treachery, and poor Adelaide was everything that was amiable and injured:  then it was the Duke’s obstinacy; for, had Adelaide got leave to do as she liked, this never would have happened; had she only got leave to give balls, and to go to masquerades, she would have made the best wife in the world, etc. etc. etc.

All this was warmly resented by Lady Matilda, supported by Mrs. Finch and General Carver, till open hostilities were declared between the ladies, and Lady Juliana was compelled to quit the house she had looked upon as next to her own, and became once more a denizen of Beech Park.

Mary’s grief and horror at her sister’s misconduct were proportioned to the nature of the offence.  She considered it not as how it might affect herself, or would be viewed by the world, but as a crime committed against the law of God; yet, while she the more deeply deplored it on that account, no bitter words of condemnation passed her lips.  She thought with humility of the superior advantages she had enjoyed in having principles of religion early and deeply engrafted in her soul; and that, but for these, such as her sister’s fate was, hers might have been.

She felt for her mother, undeserving as she was of commiseration; and strove by every means in her power to promote her comfort and happiness.  But that was no easy task.  Lady Juliana’s notions of comfort and happiness differed as widely from those of her daughter as reason and folly could possibly do.  She was indeed “than folly more a fool—­a melancholy fool without her bells.”  She still clung to low earth-born vanities with as much avidity as though she had never experienced their insecurity; still rung the same changes on the joys of wealth and grandeur, as if she had had actual proof of their unfading felicity.  Then she recurred to the Duke’s obstinacy and Lord Lindore’s artifices, till, after having exhausted herself in invective against them, she concluded by comforting herself with the hope that Lord Lindore and Adelaide would marry; and although it would be a prodigious degradation to her, and she could not be received at Court, she might yet get into very good society in town.  There were many women of high rank exactly in the same situation, who had been driven to elope from their husbands, and who married the men they liked and made the best wives in the world.