moment it was better for his
peace that he suddenly felt she was beneath his love; she was not worthy
to be his wife. He no longer esteemed; and if love itself were not
utterly snapped asunder, the loss of esteem enabled him to act in that
interview with pride approaching to her own. He reproached her not: no
word did he utter that could prove how deeply he was wounded, and thus
add to the triumph so plain to be perceived. That she had sunk in his
estimation she might have seen, but other feelings prevented her
discovering how deeply. Had she veiled her manner more, had she rejected
him with kindness, St. Eval might still have loved, and imagined that
friendship and esteem had actuated her conduct towards him. Yet those
haughty features expelled this thought as soon as it arose. It was on
the night of a gay assembly St. Eval had found an opportunity to speak
with Caroline, and when both rejoined the gay crowd no emotion was
discernible in the countenance of either. St. Eval was the same to all
as usual. No one who might have heard his eloquent discussion on some
state affairs with the Russian consul could have imagined how painfully
acute were his sufferings; it was not only disappointed love--no, his
was aggravated bitterness; he could no longer esteem the object of his
love, he had found himself deceived, cruelly deceived, in one he had
looked on almost as faultless; and where is the pang that can equal one
like this? The heightened colour on Caroline's cheek, the increased
brilliancy of her eye, attracted the admiration of all around her, the
triumph of power had indeed been achieved. But when she laid her head on
her pillow, when the silence and darkness of night brought the past to
her mind more vividly, in vain she sought forgetfulness in sleep. Was it
happiness, triumph, that bade her bury her face in her hands and weep,
weep till almost every limb became convulsed by her overpowering
emotion? Her thoughts were undefined, but so painful, that she was
glad--how glad when morning came. She compared her present with her
former self, and the contrast was misery; but even as her ill-fated aunt
had done, she summoned pride to stifle every feeding of remorse.

Mr. Hamilton had given his sanction to the addresses of Lord St. Eval to
his daughter; but he knew not when, the young man intended to place the
seal upon his fate. Great then was his astonishment, the morning
following the evening we have mentioned, when St. Eval