ind, was frank and firm in her unexpected
confidential interview with her new friend. She placed before him
clearly the enormity of his conduct, which no provocation could
justify; it was a violation of divine law, as well as human propriety.
She found the little lord attentive, tractable, and repentant,
and, what might not have been expected, exceedingly ingenious
and intelligent. His observations, indeed, were distinguished by
remarkable acuteness; and though he could not, and indeed did not even
attempt to vindicate his conduct, he incidentally introduced much
that might be urged in its extenuation. There was indeed in this,
his milder moment, something very winning in his demeanour, and Lady
Annabel deeply regretted that a nature of so much promise and capacity
should, by the injudicious treatment of a parent, at once fond and
violent, afford such slight hopes of future happiness. It was arranged
between Lord Cadurcis and Lady Annabel that she should lead him to his
mother, and that he should lament the past, and ask her forgiveness;
so they re-entered the room. Venetia was listening to a long story
from Mrs. Cadurcis, who appeared to have entirely recovered herself;
but her countenance assumed a befitting expression of grief and
gravity when she observed her son.

'My dear madam,' said Lady Annabel, 'your son is unhappy that he
should have offended you, and he has asked my kind offices to effect a
perfect reconciliation between a child who wishes to be dutiful to a
parent who, he feels, has always been so affectionate.'

Mrs. Cadurcis began crying.

'Mother,' said her son, 'I am sorry for what has occurred; mine was
the fault. I shall not be happy till you pardon me.'

'No, yours was not the fault,' said poor Mrs. Cadurcis, crying
bitterly. 'Oh! no, it was not! I was in fault, only I. There, Lady
Annabel, did I not tell you he was the sweetest, dearest, most
generous-hearted creature that ever lived? Oh! if he would only always
speak so, I am sure I should be the happiest woman that ever breathed!
He puts me in mind quite of his poor dear father, who was an
angel upon earth; he was indeed, when he was not vexed. O my
dear Plantagenet! my only hope and joy! you are the treasure and
consolation of my life, and always will be. God bless you, my darling
child! You shall have that pony you wanted; I am sure I can manage it:
I did not think I could.'

As Lady Annabel thought it was as well that the mother and the s