ry of her life revolved before her;
every scene, every character, every thought, and sentiment, and passion.
The brightness of her nursery days, and Hurstley with all its miseries,
and Hainault with its gardens, and the critical hour, which had opened
to her a future of such unexpected lustre and happiness.

The clock had struck more than once during this long and terrible
soliloquy, wherein she had to search and penetrate her inmost heart, and
now it struck two. She started, and hurriedly rang the bell.

"I shall not want the carriage to-night," she said, and when again
alone, she sat down and, burying her face in her alabaster arms, for a
long time remained motionless.

CHAPTER LXXXVIII

Had he been a youth about to make a _debut_ in the great world, Sidney
Wilton could not have been more agitated than he felt at the prospect of
the fete at Montfort House. Lady Roehampton, after nearly two years of
retirement, was about to re-enter society. During this interval she had
not been estranged from him. On the contrary, he had been her frequent
and customary companion. Except Adriana, and Lady Montfort, and
her brother, it might almost be said, her only one. Why then was he
agitated? He had been living in a dream for two years, cherishing wild
thoughts of exquisite happiness. He would have been content, had the
dream never been disturbed; but this return to hard and practical life
of her whose unconscious witchery had thrown a spell over his existence,
roused him to the reality of his position, and it was one of terrible
emotion.

During the life of her husband, Sidney Wilton had been the silent adorer
of Myra. With every accomplishment and every advantage that are supposed
to make life delightful--a fine countenance, a noble mien, a manner
natural and attractive, an ancient lineage, and a vast estate--he was
the favourite of society, who did more than justice to his talents,
which, though not brilliant, were considerable, and who could not too
much appreciate the high tone of his mind; his generosity and courage,
and true patrician spirit which inspired all his conduct, and guided him
ever to do that which was liberal, and gracious, and just.

There was only one fault which society found in Sidney Wilton; he would
not marry. This was provoking, because he was the man of all others who
ought to marry, and make a heroine happy. Society did not give it
up till he was forty, about the time he became acquainted with L