their seclusion associated with
unhappiness? These were reflections that made Venetia grave; but she
opened her journal, and, describing the adventures and feelings of the
morning, she dissipated some mournful reminiscences.

The storm still raged, Venetia had quitted the saloon in which her
mother and herself had been sitting, and had repaired to the adjoining
chamber to fetch a book. The door of this room opened, as all the
other entrances of the different apartments, on to the octagonal
vestibule. Just as she was quitting the room, and about to return to
her mother, the door of the opposite chamber opened, and there came
forward a gentleman in a Venetian dress of black velvet. His stature
was much above the middle height, though his figure, which was
remarkably slender, was bowed; not by years certainly, for his
countenance, though singularly emaciated, still retained traces
of youth. His hair, which he wore very long, descended over his
shoulders, and must originally have been of a light golden colour, but
now was severely touched with grey. His countenance was very pallid,
so colourless indeed that its aspect was almost unearthly; but his
large blue eyes, that were deeply set in his majestic brow, still
glittered with fire, and their expression alone gave life to a visage,
which, though singularly beautiful in its outline, from its faded and
attenuated character seemed rather the countenance of a corpse than of
a breathing being.

The glance of the stranger caught that of Venetia, and seemed to
fascinate her. She suddenly became motionless; wildly she stared at
the stranger, who, in his turn, seemed arrested in his progress, and
stood still as a statue, with his eyes fixed with absorbing interest
on the beautiful apparition before him. An expression of perplexity
and pain flitted over the amazed features of Venetia; and then it
seemed that, by some almost supernatural effort, confusion amounting
to stupefaction suddenly brightened and expanded into keen and
overwhelming intelligence. Exclaiming in a frenzied tone, 'My father!'
Venetia sprang forward, and fell senseless on the stranger's breast.

Such, after so much mystery, so many aspirations, so much anxiety, and
so much suffering, such was the first meeting of Venetia Herbert with
her father!

Marmion Herbert, himself trembling and speechless, bore the apparently
lifeless Venetia into his apartment. Not permitting her for a moment
to quit his embrace, he s