“Nay, weep not, my beloved, my own! let not a mere shadow, for such in this instance is duty, alloy the felicity that will be ours.  His consent will in time be given; fear not, when he sees you happy, when he sees my only care, my every thought is for your welfare, that his forgiveness for involuntary disobedience will be granted, and his unjust and cruel prejudices against me will pass away, for he will find they were indeed but fancy; and if he continues obdurate, oh, how rejoiced I shall be to have withdrawn my Caroline from his stern guardianship.  Already has he deceived you; and can he then expect implicit obedience to unjust and unfounded commands on your part?  Cheer up, my best love, fear not; trust to my affection, and all will be well.”

But still she wept, even though Lord Alphingham continued this strain of consolation for some little time longer.  Fearing at length to attract notice by her prolonged absence, she roused herself, and breaking from her triumphant lover, remained for a few minutes alone, endeavouring, but vainly, to recover that happiness which, when she had looked to an union with the Viscount, had promised to dawn around her.  She saw it not; there was a dark, heavy, threatening cloud overhanging her mind, which no efforts could dispel.  She felt, as she rejoined the glittering circle, the eye of the Duchess was fixed with startling earnestness upon her, and she shrunk from that severe look, as if indeed it could penetrate her soul and condemn the past.  Why did not enjoyment return?  Why was she not happy when in the centre of a scene like this?  She knew not, and struggled to be gay and animated as usual; but she felt as if each effort failed, and drew upon her the attention of those near her, and rejoiced was she indeed when the festive hours had fled, and she was alone.  She strove to compose her troubled thoughts to prayer, but no words came to her aid, and throwing herself on her bed, she wept for many weary hours.  She could not have told why she thus wept; she only knew that she was wretched, that the light-heartedness once so peculiarly her own had fled, it seemed, for ever, and she shrunk almost in loathing from the hour when she should meet Lord Alphingham again; and when it came, even his presence cheered her not.  He soothed, even gently reproached, but as he did so there was somewhat in his eye she had never seen before, and which struck terror.  Subdued as it was it told of passions from which she had believed him exempt, and added additional pain to her distress.  Noticing what she termed the indisposition of her young friend, the Duchess kindly advised her to remain quiet, nor join the gay party, till it had passed away; but as she spoke, Caroline observed the severe and scrutinizing glance of the Duchess again fixed upon her, and, contrary to her advice, appeared as usual at dinner.