"Ah! there is that chance to be sure," said Lady Baskerville, laughing. It is lamentable to remark, how those who live in fashion's fooleries become actually indifferent to every thing, and to every circumstance, of what mighty moment soever, that does not immediately concern their interests and pleasures. The most tremendous events, the most awful dispensations, the most surprising occurrences are to them so many little coloured bubbles, that seem to blow about for their amusement, or targets set up to shoot jokes at. Life and death seem but as foot-balls for these puppets to play with: it would be laughable if it were not horrible. Lord Melcomb had only a fainting fit, occasioned by over fatigue, and the heat of the room. The brilliant crowd, however, which were assembled at his house, fled in dismay on the first alarm of sickness or of sorrow; and their inquiries the next day for his health, were influenced more by curiosity, than by any feeling of humanity, or any real care whether he were alive or dead. This event, however, had a very different effect on the minds of Lord Melcomb's sincere friends, who waited with anxiety to learn the effects of this sudden illness. On Lady Glenmore's mind it cast a cloud, which seemed to overshadow the bright dawning of her happiness; and she trembled at the idea of some unknown calamity, an idea which had once before visited her, when called up by Lady Ellersby's words, and which now again recurred to her with painful intenseness. A short hour, however, relieved every one from anxiety; Lord Melcomb was completely restored, and he received the embraces of his child: when kissing away the tears, which she could not restrain, he entreated her to lay aside all fears on his account. Once more the bridal pair received the parental blessing; and taking leave of the few dear friends that surrounded them, stepped into their carriage and set off for Lord Glenmore's villa, where after remaining a short time, and feeling quite reassured on Lord Melcomb's account, they proceeded on a tour to Paris. CHAPTER XI. A FASHIONABLE EASTER. The season was approaching when, in good old times, the heads of great families left the metropolis, and in the retirement of their country seats or villas devoted the precious hours of the solemn festival of Easter to reflection, apart from busy scenes of public life in the bosoms of their families--thus setting an example worthy of imitation: and overcoming, in some degree, the difficulty with which we know a rich man shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven. How widely different is it at the present day with those who call themselves _The Ton_. They go indeed, at this holy season, to villas, and country seats, but take with them there all the follies, and vices, and habits of that daily idleness and dissipation which can suffer no pause in its riot, no diminution in its intoxication.