He had no parents, no relations; now that he was
for a moment free from the artificial life in which he had of late
mingled, he felt that he had no friends. The image of his mother came
back to him, softened by the magical tint of years; after all she was
his mother, and a deep sharer in all his joys and woes. Transported to
the old haunts of his innocent and warm-hearted childhood. He sighed
for a finer and a sweeter sympathy than was ever yielded by the roof
which he had lately quitted; a habitation, but not a home. He conjured
up the picture of his guardian, existing in a whirl of official bustle
and social excitement. A dreamy reminiscence of finer impulses stole
over the heart of Cadurcis. The dazzling pageant of metropolitan
splendour faded away before the bright scene of nature that surrounded
him. He felt the freshness of the fragrant breeze; he gazed with
admiration on the still and ancient woods, and his pure and lively
blood bubbled beneath the influence of the golden sunbeams. Before him
rose the halls of Cherbury, that roof where he had been so happy, that
roof to which he had appeared so ungrateful. The memory of a thousand
acts of kindness, of a thousand soft and soothing traits of affection,
recurred to him with a freshness which startled as much as it pleased
him.
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