courtier,
was uncertain; but it was undeniable that he had faithfully followed the
fortunes of the expatriate king, and even supplied his necessities from
his own resources; and had only withdrawn his services when they were no
longer required.

After the death of Lady Greville, his secluded habits seemed more than
ever confirmed; but when he again became possessed of a bride, whose
youth, beauty, and rank in society, appeared to demand an introduction
to those pleasures which her age had hitherto prevented her from
sharing; it was a matter of no small mortification to Lord and Lady
Percy, to perceive that their son-in-law evinced no disposition to
profit by the Royal favour, or to relinquish the solitude of Silsea, for
the splendours of the Capital. But Helen shared not in their regrets.
She had been educated in retirement; she knew but by report the
licentious, but seductive gaieties of the Court of Charles, and she
had not the slightest wish to increase her knowledge of such dangerous
pleasures. Content with loving, and being beloved by a husband whom she
regarded with profound veneration, her happiness was not disturbed by
a restless search after new enjoyments; and her delighted parents soon
forgot their disappointment in witnessing the contentment of their
child.

For some years succeeding her marriage, they perceived no change in the
state of her feelings, but at length the anxiety of parental love led
them to form surmises, which renewed their former disapprobation of
the conduct of Greville. During their frequent visits to Silsea, they
observed that his love of study and retirement had deepened almost to
moroseness; that his address, always cold and reserved, was becoming
offensively distant; and that he was subject to fits of abstraction, and
at other times to a peevish discontent, which materially threatened
the happiness of their daughter. They also discovered that Helen, whose
playful humour and gaiety of heart had been their solace and amusement,
even from her infancy, was now pensive and dispirited. By degrees
the bright expression of her countenance had lost all that becoming
joyousness of youth, which had been its great attraction, and though
still

"Sphered in the stillness of those heaven-blue eyes,
The soul sate beautiful,"

it was the soul of melancholy beauty.

Alarmed and unhappy, Lady Percy wearied her daughter with inquiries as
to the cause of this inauspicious change; but in vain.