CHAPTER XI.
Venetia observed her promise to Doctor Masham with strictness. Shenever alluded to her father, and his name never escaped her mother'slips. Whether Doctor Masham apprised Lady Annabel of the conversationthat had taken place between himself and her daughter, it is not inour power to mention. The visit to Marringhurst was not a short one.It was a relief both to Lady Annabel and Venetia, after all that hadoccurred, to enjoy the constant society of their friend; and thischange of life, though apparently so slight, proved highly beneficialto Venetia. She daily recovered her health, and a degree of mentalcomposure which she had not for some time enjoyed. On the whole shewas greatly satisfied with the discoveries which she had made. She hadascertained the name and the existence of her father: his very formand appearance were now no longer matter for conjecture; and in adegree she had even communicated with him. Time, she still believed,would develope even further wonders. She clung to an irresistibleconviction that she should yet see him; that he might even againbe united to her mother. She indulged in dreams as to his presentpursuits and position; she repeated to herself his verses, andremembered his genius with pride and consolation.
They returned to Cherbury, they resumed the accustomed tenour of theirlives, as if nothing had occurred to disturb it. The fondness betweenthe mother and her daughter was unbroken and undiminished. They sharedagain the same studies and the same amusements. Lady Annabel perhapsindulged the conviction that Venetia had imbibed the belief that herfather was no more, and yet in truth that father was the sole idea onwhich her child ever brooded. Venetia had her secret now; and oftenas she looked up at the windows of the uninhabited portion of thebuilding, she remembered with concealed, but not less keen exultation,that she had penetrated their mystery. She could muse for hours overall that chamber had revealed to her, and indulge in a thousandvisions, of which her father was the centre. She was his 'ownVenetia.' Thus he had hailed her at her birth, and thus he might yetagain acknowledge her. If she could only ascertain where he existed!What if she could, and she were to communicate with him? He must loveher. Her heart assured her he must love her. She could not believe,if they were to meet, that his breast could resist the silent appealwhich the sight merely of his only child would suffice to make. Oh!why had her parents parted? What could have been his fault? He was soyoung! But a few, few years older than herself, when her mother musthave seen him for the last time. Yes! for the last time beheld thatbeautiful form, and that countenance that seemed breathing only withgenius and love. He might have been imprudent, rash, violent; butshe would not credit for an instant that a stain could attach to thehonour or the spirit of Marmion Herbert.
The summer wore away. One morning, as Lady Annabel and Venetia weresitting together, Mistress Pauncefort bustled into the room witha countenance radiant with smiles and wonderment. Her ostensiblebusiness was to place upon the table a vase of flowers, but it wasevident that her presence was occasioned by affairs of far greaterurgency. The vase was safely deposited; Mistress Pauncefort gave thelast touch to the arrangement of the flowers; she lingered about LadyAnnabel. At length she said, 'I suppose you have heard the news, mylady?'
'Indeed, Pauncefort, I have not,' replied Lady Annabel. 'What news?'
'My lord is coming to the abbey.'
'Indeed!'
'Oh! yes, my lady,' said Mistress Pauncefort; 'I am not at allsurprised your ladyship should be so astonished. Never to write, too!Well, I must say he might have given us a line. But he is coming, I amcertain sure of that, my lady. My lord's gentleman has been down thesetwo days; and all his dogs and guns too, my lady. And the keeper isordered to be quite ready, my lady, for the first. I wonder if thereis going to be a party. I should not be at all surprised.'
'Plantagenet returned!' said Lady Annabel. 'Well, I shall be very gladto see him again.'
'So shall I, my lady,' said Mistress Pauncefort; 'but I dare say weshall hardly know him again, he must be so grown. Trimmer has beenover to the abbey, my lady, and saw my lord's valet. Quite the finegentleman, Trimmer says. I was thinking of walking over myself thisafternoon, to see poor Mrs. Quin, my lady; I dare say we might beof use, and neighbours should be handy, as they say. She is a veryrespectable woman, poor Mrs. Quin, and I am sure for my part, if yourladyship has no objection, I should be very glad to be of service toher.'
'I have of course no objection, Pauncefort, to your being of serviceto the housekeeper, but has she required your assistance?'
'Why no, my lady, but poor Mrs. Quin would hardly like to ask foranything, my lady; but I am sure we might be of very great use, formy lord's gentleman seems very dissatisfied at his reception, Trimmersays. He has his hot breakfast every morning, my lady, and poor Mrs.Quin says--'
'Well, Pauncefort, that will do,' said Lady Annabel, and thefunctionary disappeared.
'We have almost forgotten Plantagenet, Venetia,' added Lady Annabel,addressing herself to her daughter.
'He has forgotten us, I think, mamma,' said Venetia.
END OF BOOK II
BOOK III.
Venetia Page 31
