an admiring world. The
change too in their mutual lots was also, to a degree, not free from
that sympathy that had ever bound them together. A train of strange
accidents had brought Venetia from her spell-bound seclusion, placed
her suddenly in the most brilliant circle of civilisation, and classed
her among not the least admired of its favoured members. And whom had
she come to meet? Whom did she find in this new and splendid life the
most courted and considered of its community, crowned as it were with
garlands, and perfumed with the incense of a thousand altars? Her own
Plantagenet. It was passing strange.

The morrow brought the verses from Cadurcis. They greatly affected
her. The picture of their childhood, and of the singular sympathy of
their mutual situations, and the description of her father, called
forth her tears; she murmured, however, at the allusion to her other
parent. It was not just, it could not be true. These verses were not,
of course, shown to Lady Annabel. Would they have been shown, even if
they had not contained the allusion? The question is not perplexing.
Venetia had her secret, and a far deeper one than the mere reception
of a poem; all confidence between her and her mother had expired. Love
had stept in, and, before his magic touch, the discipline of a life
expired in an instant.

From all this an idea may be formed of the mood in which, during the
fortnight before alluded to, Venetia was in the habit of meeting Lord
Cadurcis. During this period not the slightest conversation respecting
him had occurred between her mother and herself. Lady Annabel never
mentioned him, and her brow clouded when his name, as was often the
case, was introduced. At the end of this fortnight, it happened that
her aunt and mother were out together in the carriage, and had left
her in the course of the morning at her uncle's house. During this
interval, Lord Cadurcis called, and having ascertained, through a
garrulous servant, that though his mistress was out, Miss Herbert was
in the drawing-room, he immediately took the opportunity of being
introduced. Venetia was not a little surprised at his appearance, and,
conscious of her mother's feelings upon the subject, for a moment
a little agitated, yet, it must be confessed, as much pleased. She
seized this occasion of speaking to him about his verses, for hitherto
she had only been able to acknowledge the receipt of them by a
word. While she expressed without affec