‘Well, my little daughter,’ said the good Masham, advancing as Venetia entered the room, and tenderly embracing her. The kind-hearted old man maintained a conversation on indifferent subjects with animation for some minutes; and thus a meeting, the anticipation of which would have cost Venetia hours of pain and anxiety, occurred with less uneasy feelings.

Masham had hastened to Cherbury the moment he heard of the return of the Herberts to England. He did not come to console, but to enliven. He was well aware that even his eloquence, and all the influence of his piety, could not soften the irreparable past; and knowing, from experience, how in solitude the unhappy brood over sorrow, he fancied that his arrival, and perhaps his arrival only, might tend in some degree at this moment to their alleviation and comfort. He brought Lady Annabel and Venetia letters from their relations, with whom he had been staying at their country residence, and who were anxious that their unhappy kinsfolk should find change of scene under their roof.

‘They are very affectionate,’ said Lady Annabel, ‘but I rather think that neither Venetia nor myself feel inclined to quit Cherbury at present.’

‘Indeed not, mamma,’ said Venetia. ‘I hope we shall never leave home again.’

‘You must come and see me some day,’ said the Bishop; then turning to George, whom he was glad to find here, he addressed him in a hearty tone, and expressed his delight at again meeting him.

Insensibly to all parties this arrival of the good Masham exercised a beneficial influence on their spirits. They could sympathise with his cheerfulness, because they were convinced that he sympathised with their sorrow. His interesting conversation withdrew their minds from the painful subject on which they were always musing. It seemed profanation to either of the three mourners when they were together alone, to indulge in any topic but the absorbing one, and their utmost effort was to speak of the past with composure; but they all felt relieved, though at first unconsciously, when one, whose interest in their feelings could not be doubted, gave the signal of withdrawing their reflections from vicissitudes which it was useless to deplore. Even the social forms which the presence of a guest rendered indispensable, and the exercise of the courtesies of hospitality, contributed to this result. They withdrew their minds from the past. And the worthy Bishop, whose tact was as eminent as his good humour and benevolence, evincing as much delicacy of feeling as cheerfulness of temper, a very few days had elapsed before each of his companions was aware that his presence had contributed to their increased content.

‘You have not been to the abbey yet, Lord Cadurcis,’ said Masham to him one day, as they were sitting together after dinner, the ladies having retired. ‘You should go.’

‘I have been unwilling to leave them,’ said George, ‘and I could scarcely expect them to accompany me. It is a visit that must revive painful recollections.’

‘We must not dwell on the past,’ said Masham; ‘we must think only of the future.’

‘Venetia has no future, I fear,’ said Lord Cadurcis.

‘Why not?’ said Masham; ‘she is yet a girl, and with a prospect of a long life. She must have a future, an............