“I hope I may be allowed to ask after Miss Fane,” said Vivian. “She continues better; we are now about to join her in the Limewalk. If you will join our morning stroll, it will give us much pleasure.” Nothing in the world could give Vivian greater pleasure; he felt himself impelled to the side of Lady Madeleine; and only regretted his acquaintance with the Baron because he felt conscious that there was some secret cause which prevented that intimacy from existing between his Excellency and the Trevor party which his talents and his position would otherwise have easily produced. “By-the-bye,” said Lady Madeleine, “I do not know whether I may be allowed to congratulate you upon your brilliant success at the Redoute last night. It is fortunate that all have not to regret your arrival at Ems so much as poor Mr. Hermann.” “The run was extraordinary. I am only sorry that the goddess should have showered her favours on one who neither deserves nor desires them; for I have no wish to be rich; and as I never lost by her caprices, it is hardly fair that I should gain by them.” “You do not play, then, much?” “I never played in my life till last night. Gambling has never been one of my follies, although my catalogue of errors is fuller, perhaps, than most men’s.” “I think Baron von Konigstein was your partner in the exploit?” “He was; and apparently as little pleased at the issue as myself.” “Indeed! Have you known the Baron long?” “We are only friends of a week. I have been living, ever since I was in Germany, a very retired life. A circumstance of a most painful nature drove me from England; a circumstance of which I can hardly flatter myself, and can hardly wish, that you should be ignorant.” “I learnt the sad history from one who, while he spoke the truth, spoke of the living sufferer in terms of the fondest affection.” “A father!” said Vivian, agitated, “a father can hardly be expected to be impartial.” “Such a father as yours may, I only wish that he was with us now, to assist me in bringing about what he must greatly desire, your return to England.” “It cannot be. I look back to the last year which I spent in that country with feelings of such disgust, I look forward to a return to that country with feelings of such repugnance that--but I feel I am trespassing beyond all bounds in touching on these subjects.” “I promised your father that in case we met, I would seek your society. I have suffered too much myself not to understand how dangerous and how deceitful is the excess of grief. You have allowed yourself to be overcome by that which Providence intended as a lesson of instruction, not as a sentence of despair. In your solitude you have increased the shadow of those fantasies of a heated brain, which converse with the pure sunshine of the world would have enabled you to dispel.”