cross-head of a side-lever steam-engine, and holding the whip quietly
arched over the neck of the other. The mechanical monotony of the
movement seemed less in contrast than in harmony with the profound
stillness of the wintry forest: the leafless branches heavy with rime
frost and glittering in the sun: the deep repose of nature, broken now
and then by the traversing of deer, or the flight of wild birds: highest
and loudest among them the long lines of rooks: but for the greater part
of the way one long deep silence, undisturbed but by the rolling of
the wheels and the iron tinkling of the hoofs on the frozen ground. By
degrees he fell into a reverie, and meditated on his last dialogue with
_Morgana._

'It is a curious coincidence,' he thought, 'that she should have been
dwelling in a passage, in which her namesake enchantress inflicted
punishment on Orlando for having lost his opportunity. Did she associate
Morgana with herself and Orlando with me? Did she intend a graceful hint
to me not to lose _my_ opportunity? I seemed in a fair way to seize the
golden forelock, if we had not been interrupted. Do I regret that I did
not? That is just what I cannot determine. Yet it would be more
fitting, that whatever I may do should be done calmly, deliberately,
philosophically, than suddenly, passionately, impulsively. One thing
is clear to me. It is now or never: this or none. The world does
not contain a second Morgana, at least not of mortal race. Well: the
opportunity will return. So far, I am not in the predicament in which we
left Orlando. I may yet ward off the scourge of _La Penitenza?_

But his arrival at home, and the sight of the seven sisters, who had all
come to the hall-door to greet him, turned his thoughts for awhile into
another channel.

He dined at his usual hour, and his two Hebes alternately filled his
glass with Madeira. After which the sisters played and sang to him in
the drawing-room; and when he had retired to his chamber, had looked on
the many portraitures of his Virgin Saint, and had thought by how many
charms of life he was surrounded, he composed himself to rest with the
reflection: 'I am here like Rasselas in the Happy Valley: and I can now
fully appreciate the force of that beautiful chapter: _The wants of him
who wants nothing?_'

CHAPTER XXI

SKATING--PAS DE DEUX ON THE ICE--CONGENIALITY--FLINTS AMONG BONES

Ubi lepos, joci, risus, ebrietas decent,
Gratias, dec