It is said that nothing gives a brighter glow to the complexion, or makes the eyes of a beautiful woman sparkle so intensely, as triumph over another. Is this, however, the case with respect to women alone? Buchanan’s florid cheek was dimpled with smiles; no sleepless night had dimmed the lustre of his eye; he talked incessantly, and with unusual affability addressed himself to all, except to his mother; while a look of gratified vanity was observable whenever the absence of Alice was alluded to. He had been pleased with being the cause of ruin to any woman; but his next dearest gratification was the having it supposed that he was so. He was much attacked upon this occasion, and much laughing and whispering was heard. The sufferings of love are esteemed lightly till they are felt; and there were, on this occasion, few at the Duke’s table, if any, who had ever really known them. CHAPTER XXI. Time which passes swiftly and thoughtlessly for the rich and the gay, treads ever with leaden foot, for those who are miserable and deserted. Bright prospects carry the thoughts onward; but for the mourning heart, it is the direct reverse:—it lives on the memory of the past; traces ever the same dull round; and loses itself in vain regrets, and useless retrospections. No joyous morn now rose to break the slumbers of the once innocent and happy Alice: peace of mind was gone, like the lover who had first won her affections only, it seemed, to abandon her to shame and remorse. At Sir Everard’s, Alice was treated with impertinent curiosity, tedious advice and unwise severity. “I hate people in the clouds,” cried the Doctor, as he led her to her new apartment. “Who would walk in a stubble field with their eyes gazing upon the stars?—You would perhaps, and then let me say, nobody would pity you, Miss, if you tumbled into the mire.” “But kind people would help me up again, and the unkind alone would mock at me, and pass on.” “There are so many misfortunes in this life, Miss Mac Allain, which come unexpectedly upon us, that, for my life, I have not a tear to spare for those who bring them on themselves.” “Yet, perhaps, sir, they are of all others, the most unfortunate.” “Miss Alice, mark me, I cannot enter into arguments, or rather shall not, for we do not always think proper to do what we can. Conscious rectitude is certainly a valuable feeling, and I am anxious to preserve it now: therefore, as I have taken charge of you, Miss, which is not what I am particularly fond of doing, I must execute what I think my duty. Please then to give over weeping, as it is a thing in a woman which never excites commiseration in me. Women and children cry out of spite: I have noticed them by the hour: therefore, dry your eyes; think less of love, more of your duty; and recollect that people who step out of their sphere are apt to tumble downwards till the end of their days, as nothing is so disagreeable as presumption in a woman. I hate presumption, do I not Lady St. Clare?