They returned to Cherbury, they resumed the accustomed tenour of their lives, as if nothing had occurred to disturb it.  The fondness between the mother and her daughter was unbroken and undiminished.  They shared again the same studies and the same amusements.  Lady Annabel perhaps indulged the conviction that Venetia had imbibed the belief that her father was no more, and yet in truth that father was the sole idea on which her child ever brooded.  Venetia had her secret now; and often as she looked up at the windows of the uninhabited portion of the building, she remembered with concealed, but not less keen exultation, that she had penetrated their mystery.  She could muse for hours over all that chamber had revealed to her, and indulge in a thousand visions, of which her father was the centre.  She was his ’own Venetia.’  Thus he had hailed her at her birth, and thus he might yet again acknowledge her.  If she could only ascertain where he existed!  What if she could, and she were to communicate with him?  He must love her.  Her heart assured her he must love her.  She could not believe, if they were to meet, that his breast could resist the silent appeal which 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 so young!  But a few, few years older than herself, when her mother must have seen him for the last time.  Yes! for the last time beheld that beautiful form, and that countenance that seemed breathing only with genius and love.  He might have been imprudent, rash, violent; but she would not credit for an instant that a stain could attach to the honour or the spirit of Marmion Herbert.

The summer wore away.  One morning, as Lady Annabel and Venetia were sitting together, Mistress Pauncefort bustled into the room with a countenance radiant with smiles and wonderment.  Her ostensible business was to place upon the table a vase of flowers, but it was evident that her presence was occasioned by affairs of far greater urgency.  The vase was safely deposited; Mistress Pauncefort gave the last touch to the arrangement of the flowers; she lingered about Lady Annabel.  At length she said, ’I suppose you have heard the news, my lady?’

‘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 all surprised 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 am certain sure of that, my lady.  My lord’s gentleman has been down these two days; and all his dogs and guns too, my lady.  And the keeper is ordered to be quite ready, my lady, for the first.  I wonder if there is going to be a party.  I should not be at all surprised.’

‘Plantagenet returned!’ said Lady Annabel.  ’Well, I shall be very glad to see him again.’