She
gazed around, and sighed heavily, when she said to herself, "Even in
this paradise I shall be wretched. Alas! my heart is far away! My
soul lingers about one I may never more behold!--about one who may
soon cease to remember that such a being as Mary Beaufort is in
existence. He will leave England!" cried she, raising her hands and
eyes to the glowing heavens. "He will live, he will die, far, far
from me! In a distant land he will wed another, whilst I shall know
no wish that strays from him."
Whilst she indulged in these soliloquies, she forgot both Sir Robert
and her resolution, until he sent her maid to beg, if she were
better, that she would come down and make tea for him. At this
summons she dried her eyes, and with assumed serenity descended to
the saloon, where the family were assembled. The baronet having
greeted Miss Dundas with an hospitable welcome, seated himself
between his sister and his son; and whilst he received his favorite
beverage from the hands of his beloved niece, he found that comfort
once more re-entered his bosom.
Sir Robert Somerset was a man whose appearance alone attracted
respect. His person bore the stamp of dignity, and his manners, which
possessed the exquisite polish of travel, and of society in its most
refined courts, secured him universal esteem. Though little beyond
fifty, various perplexing situations having distressed his youth, had
not only rendered his hair prematurely gray, but by clouding his once
brilliant eyes with thoughtfulness, marked his aspect with premature
old age and melancholy.
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