DIALOGUE BETWEEN GODOLPHIN AND SAVILLE.--CERTAIN EVENTS EXPLAINED.--SAVILLE'S APOLOGY FOR A BAD HEART.--GODOLPHIN'S CONFUSED SENTIMENTS FOR LADY ERPINGHAM. "Good Heavens! Constance Vernon once more free!" "And did you not really know it? Your retreat by the lake must have been indeed seclusion. It is seven months since Lord Erpingham died." "Do I dream?" murmured Godolphin, as he strode hurriedly to and fro the apartment of his friend. Saville, stretched on the sofa, diverted himself with mixing snuffs on a little table beside him. Nothing is so mournfully amusing in life as to see what trifles the most striking occurrences to us appear to our friends. "But," said Saville, not looking up, "you seem very incurious to know how he died, and where. You must learn that Erpingham had two ruling passions--one for horses, the other for fiddlers. In setting off for Italy he expected, naturally enough, to find the latter, but he thought he might as well export the former. He accordingly filled the vessel with quadrupeds, and the second day after landing he diverted the tedium of a foreign clime with a gentle ride. He met with a fall, and was brought home speechless. The loss of speech was not of great importance to his acquaintance; but he died that night, and the loss of his life was! for he gave very fair dinners--ah,--bah!" And Saville inhaled the fragrance of a new mixture. Saville had a very pleasant way of telling a story, particularly if it related to a friend's death, or some such agreeable incident. "Poor Lady Erpingham was exceedingly shocked; and well she might be, for I don't think weeds become her. She came here by slow stages, in order that the illustrious Dead might chase away the remembrance of the deceased." Your heart has not improved, Saville." "Heart! What's that? Oh, a thing servant-maids have, and break for John the footman. Heart! my dear fellow, you are turned canter, and make use of words without meaning."