iousness, and to the
history of whose pleasures and brilliant and fantastic dissipation she
had recently been listening with a lively and diverted ear, it seemed
that, by some rapid and magical vicissitude, her little Plantagenet,
the faithful and affectionate companion of her childhood, whose
sorrows she had so often soothed, and who in her pure and devoted love
had always found consolation and happiness, had become 'the observed
of all observers;' the most remarkable where all was striking, and
dazzling where all were brilliant!

His last visit to Cherbury, and its strange consequences, then
occurred to her; his passionate addresses, and their bitter parting.
Here was surely matter enough for a maiden's reverie, and into a
reverie Venetia certainly fell, from which she was roused by the voice
of her uncle, who could not conceive what book his charming niece
could find so interesting, and led her to feel what an ill compliment
she was paying to all present. Venetia hastily closed the volume, and
rose rather confused from her seat; her radiant smile was the
best apology to her uncle: and she compensated for her previous
inattention, by playing to him on the harpsichord. All the time,
however, the image of Cadurcis flitted across her vision, and she
was glad when her mother moved to retire, that she might enjoy the
opportunity of pondering in silence and unobserved over the strange
history that she had read.

London is a wonderful place! Four-and-twenty hours back, with a
feeling of loneliness and depression amounting to pain, Venetia had
fled to sleep as her only refuge; now only a day had passed, and
she had both seen and heard many things that had alike startled and
pleased her; had found powerful and charming friends; and laid her
head upon her pillow in a tumult of emotion that long banished slumber
from her beautiful eyes.

CHAPTER VII.

Venetia soon found that she must bid adieu for ever, in London, to her
old habits of solitude. She soon discovered that she was never to be
alone. Her aunt called upon them early in the morning, and said that
the whole day must be devoted to their court dresses; and in a few
minutes they were all whirled off to a celebrated milliner's. After
innumerable consultations and experiments, the dress of Venetia was
decided on; her aunt and Lady Annabel were both assured that it would
exceed in splendour and propriety any dress at the drawing-room.
Indeed, as the great artist