her agitation; but
this was not all, and the sequel revealed another excuse.

One moment we seized before our departure, to take leave of our beloved
girls. I had small hope of success, and entreated Idris to watch over my
sister. As I approached the latter, she seized my hand, and drew me into
another apartment; she threw herself into my arms, and wept and sobbed
bitterly and long. I tried to soothe her; I bade her hope; I asked what
tremendous consequences would ensue even on our failure. "My brother," she
cried, "protector of my childhood, dear, most dear Lionel, my fate hangs by
a thread. I have you all about me now--you, the companion of my infancy;
Adrian, as dear to me as if bound by the ties of blood; Idris, the sister
of my heart, and her lovely offspring. This, O this may be the last time
that you will surround me thus!"

Abruptly she stopped, and then cried: "What have I said?--foolish false
girl that I am!" She looked wildly on me, and then suddenly calming
herself, apologized for what she called her unmeaning words, saying that
she must indeed be insane, for, while Raymond lived, she must be happy; and
then, though she still wept, she suffered me tranquilly to depart. Raymond
only took her hand when he went, and looked on her expressively; she
answered by a look of intelligence and assent.

Poor girl! what she then suffered! I could never entirely forgive Raymond
for the trials he imposed on her, occasioned as they were by a selfish
feeling on his part. He had schemed, if he failed in his present attempt,
without taking leave of any of us, to embark for Greece, and never again to
revisit England. Perdita acceded to his wishes; for his contentment was the
chief object of her life, the crown of her enjoyment; but to leave us all,
her companions, the beloved partners of her happiest years, and in the
interim to conceal this frightful determination, was a task that almost
conquered her strength of mind. She had been employed in arranging for
their departure; she had promised Raymond during this decisive evening, to
take advantage of our absence, to go one stage of the journey, and he,
after his defeat was ascertained, would slip away from us, and join her.

Although, when I was informed of this scheme, I was bitterly offended by
the small attention which Raymond paid to my sister's feelings, I was led
by reflection to consider, that he acted under the force of such strong
excitement, as to take from him the