delight at again meeting her. Strange to say, in the absorbing
agitation of the moment, all thought of Venetia had vanished; and
it was when he had turned and beheld a maiden of the most exquisite
beauty that his vision had ever lighted on, who had just risen from
her seat and was at the moment saluting him, that he entirely lost his
presence of mind; he turned scarlet, was quite silent, made an awkward
bow, and then stood perfectly fixed.

'My daughter,' said Lady Annabel, slightly pointing to Venetia; 'will
not you be seated?'

Cadurcis fell into a chair in absolute confusion. The rare and
surpassing beauty of Venetia, his own stupidity, his admiration of
her, his contempt for himself, the sight of the old chamber, the
recollection of the past, the minutest incidents of which seemed all
suddenly to crowd upon his memory, the painful consciousness of the
revolution which had occurred in his position in the family, proved by
his first being obliged to be introduced to Venetia, and then
being addressed so formally by his title by her mother; all these
impressions united overcame him; he could not speak, he sat silent and
confounded; and had it not been for the imperturbable self-composure
and delicate and amiable consideration of Lady Annabel, it would
have been impossible for him to have remained in a room where he
experienced agonising embarrassment.

Under cover, however, of a discharge of discreet inquiries as to when
he arrived, how long he meant to stay, whether he found Cadurcis
altered, and similar interrogations which required no extraordinary
exertion of his lordship's intellect to answer, but to which he
nevertheless contrived to give inconsistent and contradictory
responses, Cadurcis in time recovered himself sufficiently to maintain
a fair though not very brilliant conversation, and even ventured
occasionally to address an observation to Venetia, who was seated at
her work perfectly composed, but who replied to all his remarks with
the same sweet voice and artless simplicity which had characterised
her childhood, though time and thought had, by their blended
influence, perhaps somewhat deprived her of that wild grace and
sparkling gaiety for which she was once so eminent.

These great disenchanters of humanity, if indeed they had stolen away
some of the fascinating qualities of infancy, had amply recompensed
Venetia Herbert for the loss by the additional and commanding charms
which they had conferred o