Raymond was eminently social.  All that he now enjoyed would have been devoid of pleasure to him, had it been unparticipated.  But in Perdita he possessed all that his heart could desire.  Her love gave birth to sympathy; her intelligence made her understand him at a word; her powers of intellect enabled her to assist and guide him.  He felt her worth.  During the early years of their union, the inequality of her temper, and yet unsubdued self-will which tarnished her character, had been a slight drawback to the fulness of his sentiment.  Now that unchanged serenity, and gentle compliance were added to her other qualifications, his respect equalled his love.  Years added to the strictness of their union.  They did not now guess at, and totter on the pathway, divining the mode to please, hoping, yet fearing the continuance of bliss.  Five years gave a sober certainty to their emotions, though it did not rob them of their etherial nature.  It had given them a child; but it had not detracted from the personal attractions of my sister.  Timidity, which in her had almost amounted to awkwardness, was exchanged for a graceful decision of manner; frankness, instead of reserve, characterized her physiognomy; and her voice was attuned to thrilling softness.  She was now three and twenty, in the pride of womanhood, fulfilling the precious duties of wife and mother, possessed of all her heart had ever coveted.  Raymond was ten years older; to his previous beauty, noble mien, and commanding aspect, he now added gentlest benevolence, winning tenderness, graceful and unwearied attention to the wishes of another.

The first secret that had existed between them was the visits of Raymond to Evadne.  He had been struck by the fortitude and beauty of the ill-fated Greek; and, when her constant tenderness towards him unfolded itself, he asked with astonishment, by what act of his he had merited this passionate and unrequited love.  She was for a while the sole object of his reveries; and Perdita became aware that his thoughts and time were bestowed on a subject unparticipated by her.  My sister was by nature destitute of the common feelings of anxious, petulant jealousy.  The treasure which she possessed in the affections of Raymond, was more necessary to her being, than the life-blood that animated her veins—­more truly than Othello she might say,

  To be once in doubt,
  Is—­once to be resolved.

On the present occasion she did not suspect any alienation of affection; but she conjectured that some circumstance connected with his high place, had occasioned this mystery.  She was startled and pained.  She began to count the long days, and months, and years which must elapse, before he would be restored to a private station, and unreservedly to her.  She was not content that, even for a time, he should practice concealment with her.  She often repined; but her trust in the singleness of his affection was undisturbed; and, when they were together, unchecked by fear, she opened her heart to the fullest delight.