women, instantly took the shape and found refuge in the
immediate form of the darkest spleen, generally, indeed, brooding in
silence, and, if speaking, expressing itself only in sarcasm. Cadurcis
was indeed, as we have already described him, the spoiled child of
society; a froward and petted darling, not always to be conciliated by
kindness, but furious when neglected or controlled. He was habituated
to triumph; it had been his lot to come, to see, and to conquer; even
the procrastination of certain success was intolerable to him; his
energetic volition could not endure a check. To Lady Annabel Herbert,
indeed, he was not exactly what he was to others; there was a spell
in old associations from which he unconsciously could not emancipate
himself, and from which it was his opinion he honoured her in not
desiring to be free. He had his reasons for wishing to regain his old,
his natural influence, over her heart; he did not doubt for an instant
that, if Cadurcis sued, success must follow the condescending effort.
He had sued, and he had been met with coldness, almost with disdain.
He had addressed her in those terms of tenderness which experience
had led him to believe were irresistible, yet to which he seldom had
recourse, for hitherto he had not been under the degrading necessity
of courting. He had dwelt with fondness on the insignificant past,
because it was connected with her; he had regretted, or affected
even to despise, the glorious present, because it seemed, for some
indefinite cause, to have estranged him from her hearth. Yes! he had
humbled himself before her; he had thrown with disdain at her feet all
that dazzling fame and expanding glory which seemed his peculiar and
increasing privilege. He had delicately conveyed to her that even
these would be sacrificed, not only without a sigh, but with cheerful
delight, to find himself once more living, as of old, in the limited
world of her social affections. Three years ago he had been rejected
by the daughter, because he was an undistinguished youth. Now the
mother recoiled from his fame. And who was this woman? The same cold,
stern heart that had alienated the gifted Herbert; the same narrow,
rigid mind that had repudiated ties that every other woman in the
world would have gloried to cherish and acknowledge. And with her he
had passed his prejudiced youth, and fancied, like an idiot, that he
had found sympathy! Yes, so long as he was a slave, a mechanical,
submiss