tanza, the maniac released his brother, and broke into
the wildest laugh of madness.
"Francis!--Oh! Francis, my brother," cried George, in bitterness. A
piercing shriek drew his eye to the door he had passed through--on its
threshold lay the senseless body of his wife. The distracted husband
forgot everything in the situation of his Marian, and raising her in his
arms, he exclaimed,--
"Marian--my Marian, revive--look up--know me."
Francis had followed him, and now stood by his side, gazing intently on
the lifeless body; his looks became more soft--his eye glanced less
wildly--he too cried,--
"Marian--_My_ Marian."
There was a mighty effort; nature could endure no more, he broke a
blood-vessel and fell at the feet of George. They flew to his assistance,
giving the countess to her women; but he was dead.
For seventeen years Lady Pendennyss survived this shock: but having
reached her own abode, during that long period she never left her room.
In the confidence of his surviving hopes, Doctor Ives and his wife were
made acquainted with the real cause of the grief of their friend, but the
truth went no further. Denbigh was the guardian of his three young
cousins, the duke, his sister, and young George Denbigh; these, with his
son, Lord Lumley, and daughter, Lady Marian, were removed from the
melancholy of the Castle to scenes better adapted to their opening
prospects in life. Yet Lumley was fond of the society of his father, and
finding him a youth endowed beyond his years, the care of his parent was
early turned to the most important of his duties in that sacred office;
and when he yielded to his wishes to go into the army, he knew he went a
youth of sixteen, possessed of principles and self-denial that would
become a man of five-and-twenty.
General Wilson completed the work which the father had begun; and Lord
Lumley formed a singular exception to the character of most of his
companions.
At the close of the Spanish war, he returned home, and was just in time to
receive the parting breath of his mother.
A few days before her death, the countess requested that her children
might be made acquainted with her history and misconduct; and she placed
in the hands of her son a letter; with directions for him to open it after
her decease. It was addressed to both children, and after recapitulating
generally the principal events of her life, continued:
"Thus, my children, you perceive the consequences of indulg
|