He was not languid, but simply apathetic and
indifferent, so that one could not help being constantly struck by the
contrast between his moral and physical state: the latter was still the
perfection of muscular power.
He was every thing that was kind to his mother, and to Isabel Forrester
too, who spent much of her time at Kerton, and whose health was very
delicate. If Lady Catharine could only have seen him more cheerful, she
would have been _too_ happy. It was her great delight to try and spoil
him, as she used to do when he was a child--trying to suit his tastes to
the minutest shade. For instance, Guy was always finding in his own
rooms some new ornament or addition to their comfort. Indifferent as he
was to every thing, it was good in him that he never failed to remark
these instantly. You would not have thought a cold, haughty face could
light up so brilliantly as his mother's always did when he thanked her.
Poor lady! Those last few years were her summer of St. Martin--not the
less pleasant because winter was gathering already on the crests of the
whitening hills.
There were a good many guests in the house at times, almost invariably
men, but none of the wild revels of the old days, very little hard
drinking, and no play to speak of.
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