The
slightest reaction in the self-complacency that was almost unceasingly
stimulated by the applause of applauded men and the love of the
loveliest women, instantly took the shape and found refuge in the
immediate form of the darkest spleen, generally, indeed, brooding in
silence, and, if speaking, expressing itself only in sarcasm. Cadurcis
was indeed, as we have already described him, the spoiled child of
society; a froward and petted darling, not always to be conciliated by
kindness, but furious when neglected or controlled. He was habituated
to triumph; it had been his lot to come, to see, and to conquer; even
the procrastination of certain success was intolerable to him; his
energetic volition could not endure a check. To Lady Annabel Herbert,
indeed, he was not exactly what he was to others; there was a spell
in old associations from which he unconsciously could not emancipate
himself, and from which it was his opinion he honoured her in not
desiring to be free. He had his reasons for wishing to regain his old,
his natural influence, over her heart; he did not doubt for an instant
that, if Cadurcis sued, success must follow the condescending effort.
He had sued, and he had been met with coldness, almost with disdain.
He had addressed her in those terms of tenderness which experience
had led him to believe were irresistible, yet to which he seldom had
recourse, for hitherto he had not been under the degrading necessity
of courting.
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