CHAPTER V.

Corinne returned to her dwelling in cruel disquiet; not knowing what steps to take, how to apprise Nevil of her arrival, nor what to say in defence of her motives; for every instant lessened her confidence in his love: sometimes it seemed as if the man she sought to see again were some passionately beloved stranger, who could not even recognize her. She sent to his house the next evening, and was informed that he had gone to Lady Edgarmond's; the same answer was brought her on the following day, with tidings that her ladyship was ill, and would return to Northumberland on her recovery. Corinne waited for her removal ere she let Oswald know she was in England. Every evening she walked by her step-mother's residence, and saw his carriage at its door. An inexpressible oppression seized on her heart: yet she daily persevered, and daily received the same shock. She erred, however, in supposing that Oswald was there as the suitor of Lucy.

As he led Lady Edgarmond to her carriage, after the play, she told him that Corinne was concerned in the will of their late kinsman; and begged that he would write to Italy on the arrangements made in the affair. As Oswald promised to call, he fancied he felt the hand of Lucy tremble. Corinne's silence persuaded him that he was no longer dear to her; and the emotion of this young girl gave him the idea that she was interested in him. Yet he thought not of breaking his promise to Corinne: the ring she held was a pledge that he would never marry another without her consent. He sought her step-mother next day, merely on her account; but Lady Edgarmond was so ill, and her daughter so uneasy at finding herself in London without another relative near her, without even knowing to what physician she should apply, that, in duty to the friends of his father, Oswald felt he ought to devote his time to their service. The cold, proud Lady Edgarmond had never softened so much as she did now; letting him visit her every day without his having said a word that could be construed into a proposal for her daughter, whose beauty, rank, and fortune rendered her one of the first matches in England. Since her appearance in public, her address had been eagerly inquired, and her door besieged by the nobility; yet her mother went nowhere--received no one but Lord Nevil. Could he avoid feeling flattered by this silent and delicate generosity, which trusted him without conditions, without complaint? yet every time he went did he fear that his presence would be interpreted into an engagement. He would have ceased to go thither as soon as Corinne's business was settled, but that Lady Edgarmond underwent a relapse, more dangerous than her first attack; and had she died, Lucy would have had no friend beside her but himself. She had never breathed a word that could assure him of her preference; yet he fancied he detected it in the light but sudden changes of her cheek, the abrupt fall of her lashes, and the rapidity of her breathing. He studied her young heart with tender interest; and her reserve left him always uncertain as to the nature of her sentiments. The highest eloquence of passion cannot entirely satisfy the fancy; we desire something beyond it; and not finding that, must either cool or sate; while the faint light which we perceive through clouds, long keeps our curiosity in suspense, and seems to promise a whole future of new discoveries: this expectation is never gratified; for when we know what all this mystery hid, its charm is gone, and we awake to regret the candid impulses of a more animated character. How then can we prolong the heart's enchantment, since doubt and confidence, rapture and misery, alike destroy it in the end? These heavenly joys belong not to our fate; they never cross our path, save to remind us of our immortal origin and hopes.

Lady Edgarmond was better; and talked of departing, in two days, for her estate in Scotland, near that of Lord Nevil, whither he had purposed going before the embarkation of his regiment: she anticipated his proposing to accompany her, but he said nothing. Lucy gazed on him in silence for a moment, then hastily rose, and went to the window: on some pretext Nevil shortly followed her, and fancied that her lids were wet with tears: he sighed, and the forgetfulness of which he had accused Corinne returning to his memory, he asked himself whether this young creature might not prove more capable of constant love? He wished to atone for the pain he had inflicted. It is delightful to rekindle smiles on a countenance so nearly infantine. Grief is out of place, where even reflection has yet left no trace. There was to be a review in Hyde Park on the morrow; he therefore entreated Lady Edgarmond to drive there with her daughter, and afterwards permit his taking a ride with Lucy beside her carriage. Miss Edgarmond had once said that she greatly wished to mount a horse, and looked at her mother with appealing submission: after a little deliberation, the invalid held out her wasting hand to Oswald, saying: "If you request it, my Lord, I consent." These words so alarmed him, that he would have abandoned his own proposal; but that Lucy, with a vivacity she had never before betrayed, took her mother's hand, and kissed it gratefully. He had not the courage to deprive an innocent being, who led so lonely a life, of an amusement she so much desired.