When Venetia had so far recovered that, leaning on her mother’s arm, she could resume her walks upon the terrace, Doctor Masham persuaded his friends, as a slight and not unpleasant change of scene, to pay him a visit at Marringhurst. Since the chamber scene, indeed, Lady Annabel’s tie to Cherbury was much weakened. There were certain feelings of pain, and fear, and mortification, now associated with that place which she could not bear to dwell upon, and which greatly balanced those sentiments of refuge and repose, of peace and love, with which the old hall, in her mind, was heretofore connected. Venetia ever adopted the slightest intimations of a wish on the part of her mother, and so she readily agreed to fall into the arrangement.

It was rather a long and rough journey to Marringhurst, for they were obliged to use the old chariot; but Venetia forgot her fatigues in the cordial welcome of their host, whose sparkling countenance well expressed the extreme gratification their arrival occasioned him. All that the tenderest solicitude could devise for the agreeable accommodation of the invalid had been zealously concerted; and the constant influence of Dr. Masham’s cheerful mind was as beneficial to Lady Annabel as to her daughter. The season was gay, the place was pleasant; and although they were only a few miles from home, in a house with which they were familiar, and their companion one whom they had known intimately all their lives, and of late almost daily seen; yet such is the magic of a change in our habits, however slight, and of the usual theatre of their custom, that this visit to Marringhurst assumed quite the air of an adventure, and seemed at first almost invested with the charm and novelty of travel.

The surrounding country, which, though verdant, was flat, was well adapted to the limited exertions and still feeble footsteps of an invalid, and Venetia began to study botany with the Doctor, who indeed was not very profound in his attainments in this respect, but knew quite enough to amuse his scholar. By degrees also, as her strength daily increased, they extended their walks; and at length she even mounted her pony, and was fast recovering her elasticity both of body and mind. There were also many pleasant books with which she was unacquainted; a cabinet of classic coins, prints, and pictures. She became, too, interested in the Doctor’s rural pursuits; would watch him with his angle, and already meditated a revolution in his garden. So time, on the whole, flew cheerfully on, certainly without any weariness; and the day seldom passed that they did not all congratulate themselves on the pleasant and profitable change.

In the meantime Venetia, when alone, still recurred to that idea that was now so firmly rooted in her mind, that it was quite out of the power of any social discipline to divert her attention from it. She was often the sole companion of the Doctor, and she had long resolved to seize a favourable opportunity to appeal to him on the subject of her father. It so happened that she was walking alone with him one morning in the neighbourhood of Marringhurst, having gone to visit the remains of a Roman encampment in the immediate vicinity. When they had arrived at the spot, and the Doctor had delivered his usual lecture on the locality, they sat down together on a mound, that Venetia might rest herself.

‘Were you ever in Italy, Doctor Masham?’ said Venetia.

‘I never was out of my native country,’ said the Doctor. ‘I once, indeed, was about making the grand tour with a pupil of mine at Oxford, but circumstances interfered which changed his plans, and so I remain a regular John Bull.’

‘Was my father at Oxford?’ said Venetia, quietly.

‘He was,’ replied the Doctor, looking confused.

‘I should like to see Oxford much,’ said Venetia.

‘It is a most interesting seat of learning,’ said the Doctor, quite delighted to change the subject. ‘Whether we consider its antiquity, its learning, the influence it has exercised upon the history of the country, its magnificent endowments, its splendid buildings, its great colleges, libraries, and museums, or that it is one of the principal head-quarters of all the hope of England, our youth, it is not too much to affirm that there is scarcely a spot on the face of the globe of equal interest and importance.’

‘It is not for its colleges, or libraries, or museums, or all its splendid buildings,’ observed Venetia, ‘that I should wish to see it. I wish to see it because my father was once there. I should like to see a place where I was quite certain my father had been.’

‘Still harping of her father,’ thought the Doctor to himself, and growing uneasy; yet, from his very anxiety to turn the subject, quite incapable of saying an appropriate word.

‘Do you remember my father at Oxford, Doctor Masham?’ said Venetia.

‘Yes! no, yes!’ said the Doctor, rather colouring; ‘that he must have been there in my time, I rather think.’

‘But you do not recollect him?’ said Venetia, pressing question.

‘Why,’ rejoined the Doctor, a little more collected, ‘when you remember that there are between two and three thousand young men at the university, you must not consider it very surprising that I might not recollect your father.’

‘No,’ said Venetia, ‘perhaps not: and yet I cannot help thinking that he must always have been a person who, if once seen, would not easily have been forgotten.’

‘Here is an Erica vagans,’ said the Doctor, picking a flower; ‘it is rather uncommon about here;’ and handing it at the same time to Venetia.

‘My father must have been very young when he died?&rsqu............