A strange sort of unearthly pain
mixes with the intense pleasure. And not till, with a struggle, we call
back to our memory the commonplaces of existence, can we recover our
commonplace demeanour. These, indeed, are rare visions, early feelings,
when our young existence leaps with its mountain torrents; but as the
river of our life rolls on, our eyes grow dimmer or our blood more cold.
Some effect of this kind was produced on the Duke of St. James by the
unknown dame. He turned away his head to collect his senses. His eyes
again rally; and this time, being prepared, he was more successful in
his observations.
The lady was standing against the wall; a young man was addressing some
remarks to her which apparently were not very interesting. She was tall
and young, and, as her tiara betokened, married; dazzling fair, but
without colour; with locks like night and features delicate, but
precisely defined. Yet all this did not at first challenge the
observation of the young Duke. It was the general and peculiar
expression of her countenance which had caused in him such emotion.
There was an expression of resignation, or repose, or sorrow, or
serenity, which in these excited chambers was strange, and singular, and
lone.
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