Great, indeed, was the effect; for it produced the first fear her mind had ever known. She was not aware till then that she had an enemy upon earth. Every human being seemed to love her; all had been kind to her; even the rude, dull, obtuse son of her guardian, a lad about seventeen years of age, somewhat deficient in intellect, was fond of, and gentle with, her; and, when at home (which was seldom, for he was kept at a school in London in the hope of strengthening and brightening his dull and feeble mind), Emmeline could do anything with him. He would sit beside her, choosing by preference a footstool near her feet, listening to all she said, talking to her in return, and seeming to gain some brightness from her light. All had seemed friendly to her; all had seemed kind. But now she found she had an enemy--an enemy of the most dark and irreconcilable kind--an enemy without a cause. It was very terrible to her; and even the vagueness of the information she had received--the dark obscure hints, which merely shadowed forth the passions, and the danger, and the person, added to the horror. It was in vain she attempted to nerve her heart against all fears, or to scan the things which surrounded her in order to discover where any real peril lay, and of what nature it was; her mind was like a timid person wandering in the dark, and casting his eyes round only to find objects of terror for the sight of fancy. All she knew was, that she had an enemy, dark, mysterious, malignant; but that was quite enough to depress, and agitate, and terrify her.