intimacy.'

Influenced by this advice, Lord Cadurcis rose early on the next
morning and repaired to the seat of his fathers, where hitherto his
foot had never trod. When the circle at Cherbury assembled at their
breakfast table he was missing, and Masham had undertaken the office
of apprising his friends of the cause of his absence. He returned to
dinner, and the conversation fell naturally upon the abbey, and the
impressions he had received. It was maintained at first by Lady
Annabel and the Bishop, but Venetia ultimately joined in it, and with
cheerfulness. Many a trait and incident of former days was alluded to;
they talked of Mrs. Cadurcis, whom George had never seen; they settled
the chambers he should inhabit; they mentioned the improvements
which Plantagenet had once contemplated, and which George must now
accomplish.

'You must go to London first,' said the Bishop; 'you have a great deal
to do, and you should not delay such business. I think you had better
return with me. At this time of the year you need not be long absent;
you will not be detained; and when you return, you will find yourself
much more at ease; for, after all, nothing is more harassing than the
feeling, that there is business which must be attended to, and which,
nevertheless, is neglected.'

Both Lady Annabel and Venetia enforced this advice of their friend;
and so it happened that, ere a week had elapsed, Lord Cadurcis,
accompanying Masham, found himself once more in London.

CHAPTER IV.

Venetia was now once more alone with her mother; it was as in old
times. Their life was the same as before the visit of Plantagenet
previous to his going to Cambridge, except indeed that they had no
longer a friend at Marringhurst. They missed the Sabbath visits of
that good man; for, though his successor performed the duties of the
day, which had been a condition when he was presented to the living,
the friend who knew all the secrets of their hearts was absent.
Venetia continued to bear herself with great equanimity, and the
anxiety which she observed instantly impressed on her mother's
countenance, the moment she fancied there was unusual gloom on the
brow of her child, impelled Venetia doubly to exert herself to appear
resigned. And in truth, when Lady Annabel revolved in her mind the
mournful past, and meditated over her early and unceasing efforts
to secure the happiness of her daughter, and then contrasted her
aspirations with the res