but the He was

it, even to the glasses, in a scorching sun; Duke was insensible to heat and cold. most provokingly healthy; and she had not even the respite which an attack of rheumatism, or toothache, would have afforded. As his Grace was not a person of keen sensation, this continual effort to keep up appearances cost him little or nothing; but to the Duchess' nicer tact, it was martyrdom to be compelled to submit to the semblance of affection, where there was no reality. Ah, nothing but a sense of duty, early instilled, and practically enforced, can reconcile a refined mind to the painful task of bearing, with meekness and gentleness, the ill temper, adverse will, and opposite sentiments, of those with whom we can acknowledge no feeling in

common.

But Adelaide possessed no sense of duty, and was a stranger to self-command; and though she boasted refinement of mind, yet it was of that spurious sort, which, far from elevating and purifying the heart, tends only to corrupt and debase the soul, while it sheds a false and dazzling lustre upon those perishable graces which captivate the

senses.

It may easily be imagined, the good sense of the mother did not tend to soothe the irritated feelings of the daughter. Lady Juliana was, indeed, quite as much exasperated as the Duchess, at these obstacles thrown in the way of her pleasures, and the more so as she could not quite clearly comprehend them. The good nature of her husband, and the easy indolence of her brother, even her folly had enabled her, on many occasions, to get the better of; but the obstinacy of her son-in-law was invincible to all her arts-she could, therefore, only

wonder to the Duchess, how she could not manage to get the better of the Duke's prejudices against balls, and concerts, and masquerades. It was so excessively ridiculous, so perfectly foolish, not to do as other people did; and there was the Duchess of Ryston gave Sunday concerts, and Lady Oakham saw masks, and even old ugly Lady Loddon had a ball, and the Prince at it! How vastly provoking! how unreasonable in a man of the Duke's years, to expect a girl like Adelaide to conform to all his old-fashioned notions! And then she would wisely appeal to Lord Lindore, whether it was not too absurd in the Duke to interfere with the Duchess' arrangements.

Lord Lindore was a frequent visitor at Altamont House; for the Duke, satisfied with his having been once refused, was nowise jealous of him; and Lord Lindore was too quiet and refined in his attentions to excite the attention of anyone so stupid and obtuse. It was not the least of the Duchess' mortifications, to be constantly contrasting her former lover-elegant, captivating, and spirituel

with her husband, awkward, insipid, and dull, as the fat weed that rots on Lethe's shore. Lord Lindore was, indeed, the most admired man in London, celebrated for his conquests, his horses, his elegance, manner, dress; in short, in everything he gave the tone. But he had too much taste to carry anything to extreme; and, in the midst of incense, and adulation, and imitation, he still retained that simple, unostentatious elegance, that marks the man of real fashion--the man who feels his own consequence, independent of all extraneous modes, or fleeting fashions.

There is, perhaps, nothing so imposing, nothing

that carries a greater sway over a mind of any refinement, than simplicity, when we feel assured that it springs from a genuine contempt of show and ostentation. Lord Lindore was aware of this, and he did not attempt to vie with the Duke of Altamont, in the splendour of his equipage, the richness of his liveries, the number of his attendants, or any of those obvious attractions: on the contrary, everything belonging to him was of the plainest description; and, except in the beauty of his horses, he seemed to scorn every species of extravagance; but then, he rode with so much elegance, he drove his curricle with such graceful ease, as formed a striking contrast to the formal Duke, sitting bolt-upright in his state chariot, chapeau bras, and star; and the Duchess often quitted the Park, where Lord Lindore was the admired of all admirers, mortified and ashamed at being seen in the same carriage with the man she had chosen for her husband. Ambition had led her to marry the Duke, and that same passion now heightened her attachment for Lord Lindore; for, as someone has remarked, ambition is not always the desire for that which is in itself excellent, but for that which is most prized by others; and the handsome Lord Lindore was courted and caressed in circles where the dull, precise Duke of Altamont was wholly overlooked. Months passed in this manner, and every day added something to Adelaide's feelings of chagrin and disappointment. But it was still worse when she found herself settled for a long season at Norwood Abbey — a dull, magnificent residence, with a vast unvaried park, a profusion of sombre trees, and a sheet of still water, decorated with leaden deities. Within doors everything was in the same style of vapid, tasteless

grandeur, and the society was not such as to dispel the ennui these images served to create. Lady Matilda Sufton, her satellite Mrs. Finch, General Carver, and a few stupid, elderly lords, and their wellbred ladies, comprised the family circle; and the Duchess experienced, with bitterness of spirit, that "rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home,' blessings wealth cannot purchase, nor greatness command; while she sickened at the stupid, the almost vulgar magnificence of her lot.

are

It

At this period Lord Lindore arrived on a visit, and the daily, hourly contrast that occurred betwixt the elegant impassioned lover and the dull phlegmatic husband could not fail of producing the usual effects on an unprincipled mind. Rousseau and Goethe were studied, French and German sentiments were exchanged, till criminal passion was exalted into the purest of all earthly emotions. were tedious to dwell upon the minute, the almost imperceptible occurrences that tended to heighten the illusion of passion, and throw an air of false dignity around the degrading spells of vice; but so it was, that in something less than a year from the time of her marriage this victim of self-indulgence again sought her happiness in the gratification of her own headstrong passions, and eloped with Lord Lindore, vainly hoping to find peace and joy amid guilt and infamy.

CHAPTER LXVI

"On n'est guères obligé aux gens qui ne nous viennent voir, que pour nous quereller, qui pendant toute une visite, ne nous disent pas une seule parole obligeante, et qui se font un plaisir malin d'attaquer notre conduite, et de nous faire entrevoir nos défauts."- L'ABBÉ DE BELLEGARDE.

be

THE Duke, although not possessed of the most delicate feelings, it may supposed, was not insensible to his dishonour. He immediately set about taking the legal measures for avenging it, and damages were awarded which would have the effect of rendering Lord Lindore for ever an alien to his country. Lady Juliana raved and had hysterics, and seemed to consider herself as the only sufferer by her daughter's misconduct. At one time Adelaide's ingratitude was all her theme; at another, it was Lord Lindore's treachery, and poor Adelaide was everything that was amiable and injured then it was the Duke's obstinacy, for had Adelaide got leave to do as she liked, this never would have happened; had she only got leave to give balls and to go to masquerades, she would have made the best wife in the world, etc., etc.,

etc.

:

All this was warmly resented by Lady Matilda, supported by Mrs. Finch and General Carver, till open hostilities were declared between the ladies, and Lady Juliana was compelled to quit the house