Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 01

								

would have deserved his affection!  and--but regret is useless now."
"I wish you could really feel so," said Mrs. Leslie; "for regret of
another kind still seems to haunt you; and I do not think you have yet
forgotten your early sorrows."
"Ah, how can I?" said Lady Vargrave, with a quivering lip.
At that instant, a light shadow darkened the sunny lawn in front of the
casements, and a sweet, gay young voice was heard singing at a little
distance; a moment more, and a beautiful girl, in the first bloom of
youth, bounded lightly along the grass, and halted opposite the friends.
It was a remarkable contrast,--the repose and quiet of the two persons we
have described, the age and gray hairs of one, the resigned and
melancholy gentleness written on the features of the other--with the
springing step and laughing eyes and radiant bloom of the new comer!  As
she stood with the setting sun glowing full upon her rich fair hair, her
happy countenance and elastic form, it was a vision almost too bright for
this weary earth,--a thing of light and bliss, that the joyous Greek
might have placed among the forms of Heaven, and worshipped as an Aurora
or a Hebe.
"Oh, how can you stay indoors this beautiful evening?  Come, dearest Mrs.
Leslie; come, Mother, dear Mother, you know you promised you would,--you
said I was to call you; see, it will rain no more, and the shower has
left the myrtles and the violet-bank so fresh."
"My dear Evelyn," said Mrs. Leslie, with a smile, "I am not so young as
you."
"No; but you are just as gay when you are in good spirits--and who can be
out of spirits in such weather?  Let me call for your chair; let me wheel
you--I am sure I can.  Down, Sultan; so you have found me out, have you,
sir?  Be quiet, sir, down!"
This last exhortation was addressed to a splendid dog of the Newfoundland
breed, who now contrived wholly to occupy Evelyn's attention.
The two friends looked at this beautiful girl, as with all the grace of
youth she shared while she rebuked the exuberant hilarity of her huge
playmate; and the elder of the two seemed the most to sympathize with her
mirth.  Both gazed with fond affection upon an object dear to both.  But
some memory or association touched Lady Vargrave, and she sighed as she
gazed.

CHAPTER II.


Is stormy life preferred to this serene?---YOUNG: Satires.
AND the windows were closed in, and night had succeeded to evening, and
the little party at the cottage were grouped together.  Mrs. Leslie was
quietly seated at her tambour-frame; Lady Vargrave, leaning her cheek on
her hand, seemed absorbed in a volume before her, but her eyes were not
on the page; Evelyn was busily employed in turning over the contents of a
parcel of books and music which had just been brought from the lodge
where the London coach had deposited it.
"Oh, dear Mamma!" cried Evelyn, "I am so glad; there is something you