re. He testified
complete consciousness of the kindness of his relations, and clear
remembrance of the past: but to the incoherent ravings of delirium, an
intense melancholy, still more deplorable, succeeded. In this state,
however, he became once more the inmate of his brother-in-law's
house; and though avoiding all society, except that of Teresa, whose
affectionate nature never wearied of its cares, he resumed many of his
old occupations. Again he appeared to take delight in desultory and
unprofitable studies, and in the cultivation of that luxury of solitary
men, "the thankless muse." By shunning all topics connected with
the gloomy cause of his affliction, and talking rather of the sweet
recollections of Italy and childhood than of more recent events, his
sister was enabled to soothe the dark hour, and preserve some kind of
influence over the ill-fated man. One day, however, there fell into
his hands an English newspaper, which was full of the praises of Lord
Vargrave; and the article in lauding the peer referred to his services
as the commoner Lumley Ferrers.

This incident, slight as it appeared, and perfectly untraceable by
his relations, produced a visible effect on Cesarini; and three days
afterwards he attempted his own life. The failure of the attempt was
followed by the fiercest paroxysms. His disease returned in all its
dread force: and it became necessary to place him under yet stricter
confinement than he had endured before. Again, about a year from the
date now entered upon, he had appeared to recover; and again he was
removed to De Montaigne's house. His relations were not aware of the
influence which Lord Vargrave's name exercised over Cesarini; in the
melancholy tale communicated to them by Maltravers, that name had not
been mentioned. If Maltravers had at one time entertained some vague
suspicions that Lumley had acted a treacherous part with regard
to Florence, those suspicions had long since died away for want of
confirmation; nor did he (nor did therefore the De Montaignes) connect
Lord Vargrave with the affliction of Cesarini. De Montaigne himself,
therefore, one day at dinner, alluding to a question of foreign politics
which had been debated that morning in the Chamber, and in which he
himself had taken an active part, happened to refer to a speech of
Vargrave upon the subject, which had made some sensation abroad, as
well as at home. Teresa asked innocently who Lord Vargrave was; and De
Montai