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Page 71
Mrs. Dubois not having but one pair of eyes, and those being fully
occupied with the contents of the above letter, and the Count de
Rossillon remaining asleep during the entire reading, of course it
could not be expected that they observed the changes that took place
on Ad�le's countenance. But an author, as is well known, has ways and
means of observation not common to others, and here it may be
remarked, that that young lady's face, had exhibited, during the last
fifteen minutes, or more, quite a variety of emotions. It had at
first, been thoughtful and interested, then lighted with smiles, then
radiant with enjoyment of the good missionary's sketches of Mrs. McNab
and Micah. But the moment her mother read the name of John Lansdowne,
her face was suffused with a deep crimson, and she listened almost
breathlessly, and with glistening eyes, to the close.
"Oh! the good noble man!" said Mrs. Dubois, as she folded up the
sheets. "It will please your father to read this, where is he, Ad�le?"
"He rode away with Pierre, not long ago. Please let me take the
letter. I must read it again", said Ad�le, having conquered her
emotion, without her mother perceiving it.
She took it away to her own boudoir, and as she read the pages, the
flowing tears fell fast. Why should she weep over such a cheerful
letter as that? Why?
CHAPTER XXV.
THE LAST SLEEP.
Ad�le had long since discovered that the events of greatest interest
in her life had transpired before she entered the walls of Rossillon,
or mingled in the festivities of the Court at Paris.
The scenes that occurred at Miramichi, during Mr. Lansdowne's
accidental residence there, were fraught with a power over her heart,
continually deepening with the flight of time. Those golden days, when
their lives flowed side by side, had been filled with the strange,
sweet agitations, the aerial dreams, the bewitching glamour, the
intoxicating happiness of a first and youthful love. Those days were
imprinted yet more deeply in her memory by a consciousness that there
was somewhat with which to reproach herself connected with them. Just
when she had reached the top of bliss, her pride had sprung up, and
like a dark stormcloud, had shadowed the scene. She could not forget
that cold, sad parting from her lover.
And now, though the ocean rolled between them, and the spheres in
which each moved were so widely separated and the years had come and
gone, she was yet calculating and balancing the probabilities, that
they might meet again and the wrong of the past be cancelled.
Mr. Lansdowne had been plodding among musty law books and threading
legal intricacies, with occasional interruptions, caused by fits of
impatience and disgust at the detail and tedium of study, until he had
at length fought his way through and placed himself in the front rank
of his profession. His brilliant achievement in the famous Jenkins
case, in the outset of his career, had at once won for him a position
at the bar which most young men have to toil years to obtain. His
family was wealthy and influential. It was not strange that with these
advantages, united to the possession of remarkable personal beauty, he
should be the centre of a numerous group of friends and admirers. He
was the object of pride among the older barristers and gentlemen of
the bench, the cynosure of the young men, and the one among a thousand
whom elegant mammas and smiling maidens wooed with their selectest
influences.
Yet one great element of earthly happiness was wanting to his life. He
could not forget the enchantment of those days spent in the far-off
wilds of Miramichi. He turned continually to those scenes, as the most
prominent of his existence. There he had stepped from boyhood into
manhood. There he had seen life in new and before untried forms. He
had there witnessed a wonderful display of God's power through the
terrible agency of the all-devouring flame, and there, for the first
time, he had confronted death and sorrow. There, he had loved once and
as he believed, forever. He recalled Ad�le, as she first appeared
before him,--an unexpected vision of beauty, in all her careless grace
and sweet, confiding frankness; in her moments of stately pride, when
she chilled him from her side and kept him afar off; and in her
moments of affectionate kindness, and generous enthusiasm. In short,
in all her changeful moods she was daily flitting before him and he
confessed to himself, that he had never met a being so rich in nature
and varied in powers, so noble in impulse and purpose, so peerlessly
beautiful in person.
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