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Updated: June 25, 2025
"And so," said Saville, supping one night with the actress, "you think the world does not overlaud Lady Erpingham?" "No: she is what Medea would have been, if innocent full of majesty, and yet of sweetness. It is the face of a queen of some three thousand years back. I could have worshipped her." "My little Fanny, you are a strange creature. Methinks you have a dash of poetry in you."
The whole of the large space enclosed between the nave of the cathedral on the south and the bishop's palace on the east, and stretching as far as the Erpingham gate on the west, was one huge graveyard. When the country parsons came to present themselves for institution at the palace, they had to pass straight across this cemetery.
It was about ten days after this conversation that Godolphin, waiting at a hotel in Dover the hour at which the packet set sail for Calais, took up the Morning Post; and the first passage that met his eye was the one which I transcribe: "Marriage in High Life. On Thursday last, at Wendover Castle, the Earl of Erpingham, to Constance, only daughter of the celebrated Mr. Vernon.
Like the generality of his class, he was peculiarly loose in his notions of women, though not ardent in pursuit of them. His amours had been among opera-dancers, "because," as he was wont to say, "there was no d d bore with them." Lord Erpingham was always considered a high-minded man. Such was Robert Earl of Erpingham.
Amidst the regrets of the London world, they made their arrangements, and prepared to set out at the end of the season for the land of Paganini and Julius Caesar. Two nights before their departure, Lady Erpingham gave a farewell party to her more intimate acquaintance. Saville, who always contrived to be well with every one who was worth the trouble it cost him, was of course among the guests.
As Lord Erpingham led her to her place, a buzz of admiration and enthusiasm followed her steps. This pleased Erpingham more than, at that moment, it did Constance. Already intoxicated by her beauty, he was proud of the effect it produced on others, for that effect was a compliment to his taste.
Was the glory gone from your brow, Constance? or the proud gladness from your eye? Alas! are not the blessings of the world like the enchanted bullets? that which pierces our heart is united with the gift which our heart desired! Lord Erpingham entered the room. "Well, Constance," said he, "shall you ride on horseback to-day?" "I think not." "Then I wish you would call on Lady Delville.
The old woman was descanting upon the merits of the late Lord of Godolphin Priory, "For though they called him close, and so forth, my lady, yet he was generous to others; it was only himself he pinched. But, to be sure, the present squire won't take after him there." "Has Mr. Percy Godolphin been here lately?" asked Lady Erpingham. "He is at the cottage now, my lady," replied the old woman.
Naturally anxious to enjoy as exclusively as possible the company of her son the first day of his return from so long an absence, Lady Erpingham had asked no one to meet him.
Godolphin's proportions were faultless; but your strapping heroes think of a moderate-sized man as mathematicians define a point declare that he has no length nor breadth whatsoever. "What say you, Constance?" asked Lady Erpingham, meaningly. Constance felt the meaning, and replied calmly, that Mr. Godolphin appeared to her handsomer than any one she had seen lately.
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