evolved upon George Cadurcis. It
was his study that Lady Annabel should be troubled upon no point. The
household were discharged, all the affairs were wound up, the felucca
hired which was to bear them to Genoa, and in readiness, before he
notified to them that the hour of departure had arrived. The most
bitter circumstance was looking again upon the sea. It seemed so
intolerable to Venetia, that their departure was delayed more than one
day in consequence; but it was inevitable; they could reach Genoa in
no other manner. George carried Venetia in his arms to the boat, with
her face covered with a shawl, and bore her in the same manner to the
hotel at Genoa, where their travelling carriage awaited them.

They travelled home rapidly. All seemed to be impelled, as it were,
by a restless desire for repose. Cherbury was the only thought in
Venetia's mind. She observed nothing; she made no remark during their
journey; they travelled often throughout the night; but no obstacles
occurred, no inconveniences. There was one in this miserable society
whose only object in life was to support Venetia under her terrible
visitation. Silent, but with an eye that never slept, George Cadurcis
watched Venetia as a nurse might a child. He read her thoughts, he
anticipated her wishes without inquiring them; every arrangement was
unobtrusively made that could possibly consult her comfort.

They passed through London without stopping there. George would not
leave them for an instant; nor would he spare a thought to his own
affairs, though they urgently required his attention. The change in
his position gave him no consolation; he would not allow his passport
to be made out with his title; he shuddered at being called Lord
Cadurcis; and the only reason that made him hesitate about attending
them to Cherbury was its contiguity to his ancestral seat, which he
resolved never to visit. There never in the world was a less selfish
and more single-hearted man than George Cadurcis. Though the death of
his cousin had invested him with one of the most ancient coronets in
England, a noble residence and a fair estate, he would willingly have
sacrificed his life to have recalled Plantagenet to existence, and to
have secured the happiness of Venetia Herbert.

CHAPTER II.

The reader must not suppose, from the irresistible emotion that
overcame Venetia at the very moment of her return, that she was
entirely prostrated by her calamities. On the co