ad recalled the rose to Venetia's cheek and the sunny smile to
her bright eye, or had inspired again that graceful form with all its
pristine elasticity. It was a heart content; a spirit at length at
peace. The contemplation of the happiness of those most dear to her
that she hourly witnessed, and the blissful consciousness that her
exertions had mainly contributed to, if not completely occasioned,
all this felicity, were remedies of far more efficacy than all the
consultations and prescriptions of her physicians. The conduct of her
father repaid her for all her sufferings, and realised all her
dreams of domestic tenderness and delight. Tender, grateful, and
affectionate, Herbert hovered round her mother like a delicate spirit
who had been released by some kind mortal from a tedious and revolting
thraldom, and who believed he could never sufficiently testify his
devotion. There was so much respect blended with his fondness, that
the spirit of her mother was utterly subdued by his irresistible
demeanour. All her sadness and reserve, her distrust and her fear, had
vanished; and rising confidence mingling with the love she had ever
borne to him, she taught herself even to seek his opinion, and be
guided by his advice. She could not refrain, indeed, from occasionally
feeling, in this full enjoyment of his love, that she might have
originally acted with too much precipitation; and that, had she only
bent for a moment to the necessity of conciliation, and condescended
to the excusable artifices of affection, their misery might have been
prevented. Once when they were alone, her softened heart would have
confessed to Herbert this painful conviction, but he was too happy
and too generous to permit her for a moment to indulge in such a
remorseful retrospect. All the error, he insisted, was his own; and he
had been fool enough to have wantonly forfeited a happiness which time
and experience had now taught him to appreciate.

'We married too young, Marmion,' said his wife.

'It shall be that then, love,' replied Herbert; 'but for all that I
have suffered. I would not have avoided my fate on the condition of
losing the exquisite present!'

It is perhaps scarcely necessary to remark, that Herbert avoided with
the most scrupulous vigilance the slightest allusion to any of those
peculiar opinions for which he was, unhappily, too celebrated. Musing
over the singular revolutions which had already occurred in his habits
and his feelin