'
The presence of her mother instantaneously restored Venetia to
herself. Her mind was in a moment cleared and settled. Her past and
peculiar life, and all its incidents, recurred to her with their
accustomed order, vividness, and truth. She thoroughly comprehended
her present situation. Actuated by long-cherished feelings and the
necessity of the occasion, she rose and threw herself at her mother's
feet and exclaimed, 'O mother! he is my father, love him!'
Lady Annabel stood with an averted countenance, Venetia clinging to
her hand, which she had caught when she rushed forward, and which now
fell passive by Lady Annabel's side, giving no sign, by any pressure
or motion, of the slightest sympathy with her daughter, or feeling for
the strange and agonising situation in which they were both placed.
'Annabel,' said Herbert, in a voice that trembled, though the speaker
struggled to appear calm, 'be charitable! I have never intruded upon
your privacy; I will not now outrage it. Accident, or some diviner
motive, has brought us together this day. If you will not treat me
with kindness, look not upon me with aversion before our child.'
Still she was silent and motionless, her countenance hidden from her
husband and her daughter, but her erect and haughty form betokening
her inexorable mind.
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