The daughter feared, the father hated him. There was
indeed much to be done; but the remembrance of a thousand triumphs
supported the adventurer. Lady Aphrodite was at length persuaded that
she alone could confirm the reformation which she alone had originated.
She yielded to a passion which her love of virtue had alone kept in
subjection. Sir Lucius and Lady Aphrodite knelt at the feet of the old
Earl. The tears of his daughter, ay! and of his future son-in-law--for
Sir Lucius knew when to weep--were too much for his kind and generous
heart. He gave them his blessing, which faltered on his tongue.
A year had not elapsed ere Lady Aphrodite woke to all the wildness of a
deluded woman. The idol on whom she had lavished all the incense of
her innocent affections became every day less like a true divinity.
At length even the ingenuity of a passion could no longer disguise the
hideous and bitter truth. She was no longer loved. She thought of her
father. Ah, what was the madness of her memory!
The agony of her mind disappointed her husband's hope of an heir, and
the promise was never renewed.
In vain she remonstrated with the being to whom she was devoted: in vain
she sought by meek endurance again to melt his heart.
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