pon the gardens; but the
eyes of Wilton had fixed immediately upon the figure of a lady who
was walking slowly along on the terrace, some way beneath them, at
the very edge of the river. She did not remark the opening of the
glass door in the centre of the house, which was at the distance of
about two hundred yards from the spot where she was at the time; but
continued her walk with her eyes bent upon the ground, and one hand
playing negligently with the bracelet which encircled the wrist of
the other arm. Her thoughts were evidently deeply busied with matters
of importance, at least to herself. She was walking slowly, as we
have said--a thing that none but a high-bred woman can do with
grace--and though the great beauty of her figure was, in some degree,
hidden by the costume of the day, yet nothing could render its easy,
gliding motion aught but exquisitely graceful, and (if I may use a
far-fetched term, but, perhaps, the only one that will express my
meaning clearly,) musical to the eye. It must not be understood that,
though she was walking slowly, the grace with which she did so had
anything of the cold and stately air which those who assume it call
dignity. Oh no! it was all easy: quiet, but full of youth, and
health, and life it was the mere movement of a form, perfect in the
symmetry of every limb, under the will of a spirit harmonizing
entirely with the fair frame that contained it. She walked slowly
because she was full of deep thought; but no one who beheld her could
doubt that bounding joy might in its turn call forth as much grace in
that young form as the calmer mood now displayed.
Wilton turned his eyes from the lady to his young companion, and he
saw that he was now gazing at her too, and that not a little
admiration was painted in his countenance. Wilton was painfully
situated, and felt all the awkwardness of the position in which Lord
Sherbrooke had placed him fully. Yet how could he act? he asked
himself--what means of escape did there exist? What was the motive,
too? what the intentions of Lord Sherbrooke? for what purposes had he
brought him there? in what situation might he place him next?
All these, and many another question, he asked his own heart as they
advanced across the green slopes and little terraces towards that in
which the young lady "walked in beauty." There was no means for him
to escape, however; and though he never knew from one moment to
another what would be the conduct of Lord Sherbrooke, he was obliged
to go o