ble auspices,
would mature it into fulfilment; she trembled, and turned pale.

It was to the Bishop that, after dinner, Lady Annabel expressed some
of the feelings which the reappearance of Cadurcis had occasioned her.

'I see nothing but misery for his future,' she exclaimed; 'I tremble
for him when he addresses me. In spite of the glittering surface on
which he now floats, I foresee only a career of violence, degradation,
and remorse.'

'He is a problem difficult to solve,' replied Masham; 'but there are
elements not only in his character, but his career, so different from
those of the person of whom we were speaking, that I am not inclined
at once to admit, that the result must necessarily be the same.'

'I see none,' replied Lady Annabel; 'at least none of sufficient
influence to work any material change.'

'What think you of his success?' replied Masham. 'Cadurcis is
evidently proud of it. With all his affected scorn of the world, he
is the slave of society. He may pique the feelings of mankind, but I
doubt whether he will outrage them.'

'He is on such a dizzy eminence,' replied Lady Annabel, 'that I do not
believe he is capable of calculating so finely. He does not believe, I
am sure, in the possibility of resistance. His vanity will tempt him
onwards.'

'Not to persecution,' said Masham. 'Now, my opinion of Cadurcis is,
that his egotism, or selfism, or whatever you may style it, will
ultimately preserve him from any very fatal, from any irrecoverable
excesses. He is of the world, worldly. All his works, all his conduct,
tend only to astonish mankind. He is not prompted by any visionary
ideas of ameliorating his species. The instinct of self-preservation
will serve him as ballast.'

'We shall see,' said Lady Annabel; 'for myself, whatever may be his
end, I feel assured that great and disgraceful vicissitudes are in
store for him.'

'It is strange after what, in comparison with such extraordinary
changes, must be esteemed so brief an interval,' observed Masham, with
a smile, 'to witness such a revolution in his position. I often think
to myself, can this indeed be our little Plantagenet?'

'It is awful!' said Lady Annabel; 'much more than strange. For myself,
when I recall certain indications of his feelings when he was last at
Cadurcis, and think for a moment of the results to which they might
have led, I shiver; I assure you, my dear lord, I tremble from head to
foot. And I encouraged him! I smiled