Helen denied that
any alteration had taken place in her feelings; and declared that the
new and serious tone of her character arose naturally from her advance
in life, and from the duties devolving upon her as a wife and mother.

"Be satisfied, dear madam," said she, "that I am still a happy and
adoring wife. You well know that my affections were not won by an
outward show of splendour and gay accomplishments, nor by the common
attraction of an idle gallantry. It was on Greville's high reputation
for just and honourable principles, and on his manly and noble nature,
that my love was founded, and these will never change;--and if, at
times, unpleasant circumstances should arise, into which my sex and age
unfit me to inquire to throw a cloud over his features, or a transient
peevishness into his humour, it would ill become me--in short,"
continued she in a trembling voice, and throwing her arms around Lady
Percy's neck, to conceal her tears, "in short, dear Madam, you must
remember that dearly, tenderly, dutifully, as Helen loves her mother,
the wife of Greville can have no complaints to make to the Countess of
Percy*."

*[See "The family Legend"]

But however well the suffering wife might succeed in disguising the
bitterness of wounded affection from her inquiring family, she could
not conceal it from herself. She had devoted herself, in the pride
of youthful beauty, to the most secluded retirement, through romantic
attachment for one who had appeared to return her love with at least
an equal fervour. Her father's house--her own opening and brilliant
prospects--her numerous family connexions and "troops of friends,"--she
had deserted all for him, in her generous confidence in his future
kindness. "His people had become her people, and his God, her God!" She
had fondly expected that his society would atone for every loss, and
compensate every sacrifice; that in the retirements she shared with him,
he would devote some part of his time to the improvement of her mind,
and the development of her character, and that in return for her self
devotion, he would cheerfully grant her his confidence and affection.
But there--"there where she had garnered up her heart,"--she was doomed
to bear the bitterest disappointment. She found herself, on awaking
from her early dream of unqualified mutual affection, treated with
negligence, and at times with unkindness, and though gleams of his
former tenderness would sometimes break thr