Gothic fiction; Ireland -- History -- Rebellion of 1798 -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Romans à clef
Calantha, with her usual inconsistency, now made all those sensible and
judicious remarks which people always make, when they have lived a life
of folly, and suddenly return to a more tranquil course. She compared
the false gaiety which arises from incessant hurry and vanity, with that
which is produced by nature and health. She looked upon the blue sky
and the green fields; watched the first peeping snow-drop and crocus;
and entered with delight into all the little innocent pleasures of a
rural life: nor did even a slight restlessness prevail, nor any erring
thoughts steal back to revisit the gay scenes she had left. In very truth
she was more adapted, she said, to her present course of life than to
any other; and, however guilty of imprudence, she thanked God she had
not heavier sins to answer for; nor was there a thought of her heart,
she would not have wished her husband to know, unless from the fear of
either giving him pain or betraying others.
At length, however, and by degrees, something of disquiet began to
steal in upon the serenity of her thoughts:—her mind became agitated,
and sought an object:—study, nay, labour she had preferred to this
total want of interest. While politics and military movements engaged
Lord Avondale almost wholly, and the rest of the family seemed to exist
happily enough in the usual course, she longed for she knew not what.
There was a change in her sentiments, but she could not define it. It
was not as it had been once: yet there was no cause for complaint. She
was happy, but her heart seemed not to partake of her happiness: regret
mingled at times with her enjoyments.
Lady Mowbray spoke with some asperity of her late conduct; Lady Elizabeth
enquired laughingly if all she heard were true; for every folly, every
fault, exaggerated and misrepresented, had flown before her: she found
that all which she had considered as merely harmless, now appeared in a
new and more unpleasing light. Censures at home and flattery abroad are
a severe trial to the vain and the proud. She thought her real friends
austere; and cast one longing glance back upon the scene which had been
so lately illumined by the gaiety, the smiles, the kindness and courtesy
of her new acquaintance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account