There is a cause for
all this contest of my passions. It must out. My being has changed. The
scales have fallen from my sealed eyes, and the fountain of my heart
o'erflows. Life seems to have a new purpose, and existence a new cause.
Listen to me, listen; and if you can, May, comfort me!'
CHAPTER XVI.
_Three Graces_
AT TWICKENHAM the young Duke recovered rapidly. Not altogether
displeased with his recent conduct, his self-complacency assisted his
convalescence. Sir Lucius Grafton visited him daily. Regularly, about
four or five o'clock, he galloped down to the Pavilion with the last _on
dit_: some gay message from White's, a _mot_ of Lord Squib, or a trait
of Charles Annesley. But while he studied to amuse the wearisome hours
of his imprisoned friend, in the midst of all his gaiety an interesting
contrition was ever breaking forth, not so much by words as looks. It
was evident that Sir Lucius, although he dissembled his affliction,
was seriously affected by the consequence of his rash passion; and his
amiable victim, whose magnanimous mind was incapable of harbouring an
inimical feeling, and ever respondent to a soft and generous sentiment,
felt actually more aggrieved for his unhappy friend than for himself.
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