A pause ensued. Had Lucy been in love with her husband, most likely her heart would have entirely softened towards him; and though she would have poured forth a much more vehement torrent of reproaches, she would have been more ready to restore him to his former place in her affections. As it was, she heard his assurance with satisfaction, but with calmness. It did not produce any instantaneous revulsion in her feelings. It did not now affect her as it would have done on the evening at Caërwhwyddwth Castle, when his silence had so seared her heart. Since then she had had leisure to look back upon her marriage, and to decipher what her feelings had then been, and to become convinced how little of real love there was in her preference of him. She now knew how easily we can deceive ourselves. The spell was broken! The halo her own imagination had thrown around him was dispersed. Although with a mind so naturally well disposed as hers, if his conduct had always been such as to ensure her respect, the spell would never have been broken, the halo never dispersed; still it was not at her option again to conjure up the one, or to invest him with the other. She saw him as he was; but he was the father of her child, and she rejoiced that the silence and reserve which had so long been maintained between them, was at length broken through. She did not wish it should ever be resumed, and she continued,— “I hope we now both wish to perform our duties, and I really need your instructions with respect to my behaviour to Mr. Delville.” At this moment Lord Montreville felt his own errors had been so much more serious than hers, that he was grateful to her for expressing herself as if they each had something to forget and to forgive; and his jealous feelings had vanished into thin air before her candour and sincerity, in a manner which surprised himself. “Lucy,” he said, “I trust to you; there can be no deceit under that open brow. I have known many women, but none so free from guile, so single-hearted as yourself. You are now aware that Lionel’s attentions to you have given me uneasiness, and I feel convinced you will conduct yourself as you ought to do. I only wish you felt the same confidence in me.” “Indeed, Lord Montreville, if you assure me you have broken off all connection with that woman, I implicitly believe what you say. But, to tell the honest truth, I cannot get over your having ever done any thing so wicked. I may be able to forgive the insult to myself, but how can I look up to you as I once did, when I know you have been led into such wickedness?” “Dear Lucy, you do not know with what free notions men are educated; you do not know how difficult it is for a man to shake off a woman who has once acquired power over him, and who tries to get him back into her toils, even although the inclination he has once felt for her has long, long passed away.” “Then it was not since your marriage that you first became acquainted with her?”