Why this occasional and painful mystery that ever and anon
clouded the heaven of their love, and flung a frigid shadow over the
path of a sunshiny life? Why was not Venetia to share the sorrow or
the care of her only friend, as well as participate in her joy and her
content? There were other claims, too, to this confidence, besides
those of the heart. Lady Annabel was not merely her only friend; she
was her parent, her only parent, almost, for aught she had ever heard
or learnt, her only relative. For her mother's family, though she was
aware of their existence by the freedom with which Lady Annabel ever
mentioned them, and though Venetia was conscious that an occasional
correspondence was maintained between them and Cherbury, occupied no
station in Venetia's heart, scarcely in her memory. That noble family
were nullities to her; far distant, apparently estranged from her
hearth, except in form she had never seen them; they were associated
in her recollection with none of the sweet ties of kindred. Her
grandfather was dead without her ever having received his blessing;
his successor, her uncle, was an ambassador, long absent from his
country; her only aunt married to a soldier, and established at a
foreign station. Venetia envied Dr.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182