ven during the rest of the week.'

'You mock me!'

'Nay! I am sincerely serious.'

'What, then, do you mean?'

'I mean that your imagination, my lord, dwelling for the moment with
great power upon the idea of Venetia, becomes inflamed, and your whole
mind is filled with her image.'

'A metaphysical description of being in love,' said Lord Cadurcis,
rather dryly.

'Nay!' said Masham, 'I think the heart has something to do with that.'

'But the imagination acts upon the heart,' rejoined his companion.

'But it is in the nature of its influence not to endure. At this
moment, I repeat, your lordship may perhaps love Miss Herbert; you
may go home and muse over her memory, and even deplore in passionate
verses your misery in being separated from her; but, in the course of
a few days, she will be again forgotten.'

'But were she mine?' urged Lord Cadurcis, eagerly.

'Why, you would probably part from her in a year, as her father parted
from Lady Annabel.'

'Impossible! for my imagination could not conceive anything more
exquisite than she is.'

'Then it would conceive something less exquisite,' said the Bishop.
'It is a restless quality, and is ever creative, either of good or of
evil.'

'Ah! my dear Doctor, excuse me for again calling you Doctor, it is so
natural,' said Cadurcis, in a tone of affection.

'Call me what you will, my dear lord,' said the good Bishop, whose
heart was moved; 'I can never forget old days.'

'Believe me, then,' continued Cadurcis, 'that you misjudge me in
respect of Venetia. I feel assured that, had we married three years
ago, I should have been a much happier man.'

'Why, you have everything to make you happy,' said the Bishop; 'if you
are not happy, who should be? You are young, and you are famous: all
that is now wanted is to be wise.'

Lord Cadurcis shrugged his shoulders. I am tired of this life,' he
said; 'I am wearied of the same hollow bustle, and the same false
glitter day after day. Ah! my dear friend, when I remember the happy
hours when I used to roam through the woods of Cherbury with Venetia,
and ramble in that delicious park, both young, both innocent, lit by
the sunset and guided by the stars; and then remember that it has all
ended in this, and that this is success, glory, fame, or whatever be
the proper title to baptize the bubble, the burthen of existence is
too great for me.'

'Hush, hush!' said his friend, rising from the sofa; 'you will be
happy if you