And Emmeline, in spite of her general popularity, was among that number: how far she might equally have resisted its snares, and despised its pleasures, had there been corresponding joy within, we cannot pretend to say; but, as it was, the first transient amusement produced by novelty, very soon went off, leaving her mind wearied and depressed, and, at any time, in the gayest scene, the sight of Fitzhenry at a distance, in the crowd of a ball-room, or at the opera, had power instantly to dispel every feeling of enjoyment; and then, totally regardless of what passed around her, or of the flattering compliments addressed to her, her eyes were rivetted to the spot where he was, busied in the eager examination of those near him, in search of that form, those features, which had captivated him; and often when she had observed him engrossed in conversation with any woman, or even when merely paying the common attentions of civility, breathless with agitation, she has enquired who the favoured being was, as if in strange eagerness “most to seek what she would most avoid;” but still Lady Florence never appeared; her dreaded name was never mentioned. Although now, to all appearance, totally deserted by her husband, still he kept strictly to his engagement with her. Every possible indulgence and pleasure which money could give, were hers; and in such outward attentions he even seemed occupied about her. The horse she rode at Arlingford, although formerly his favourite hunter, was now considered as entirely hers, and without her even expressing a wish on the subject, had been brought to town for her exclusive use; he had himself secured a box at the opera for her, after having ascertained in what part of the house she would prefer it; and, on their first arrival in town, he had again repeated his desire, that she should ask any and every one she liked to the house. In short, she was again and again enjoined to consult only her own happiness and enjoyment in every thing: kind words in the mouth of any other husband; but, producing the painful conviction of her loneliness, they brought but tears into Emmeline’s eyes, when hastily pronounced by Fitzhenry, with his hand on the lock of the door, in order that he might leave her the instant they were uttered, and so escape the possibility of thanks or comment. Wishing, however, to show that she was sensible of his intended kindness, in the liberty he gave, and with a last faint hope, that by making his home agreeable, she might entice him to be more with her, Emmeline determined to endeavour to collect society at her house. She took a favourable moment to inform Fitzhenry of her intention, and of the nights for which she had made the invitations. He seemed much to approve of the plan, but said nothing as to his own attendance.