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Updated: June 13, 2025
I resolved to call that morning, but first I drove to Lady Roseville's to talk about Almack's and the beau monde, and be initiated into the newest scandal and satire of the day. Lady Roseville was at home; I found the room half full of women: the beautiful countess was one of the few persons extant who admit people of a morning. She received me with marked kindness.
My cabriolet soon whirled me to Lady Roseville's door; the first person I saw in the drawing-room, was Ellen. She lifted up her eyes with that familiar sweetness with which they had long since began to welcome me. "Her brother may perish on the gibbet!" was the thought that curdled my blood, and I bowed distantly and passed on. I met Vincent. He seemed dispirited and dejected.
One evening, I, Vincent, and Clarendon, were alone at Lady Roseville's, when Reginald and his sister entered. I rose to depart; la belle Contesse would not suffer it; and when I looked at Ellen, and saw her blush at my glance, the weakness of my heart conquered, and I remained.
I might have known that he was expected, by Lady Roseville's abstraction, the restlessness with which she started at times from her seat, and as instantly resumed it; and her fond expecting looks towards the door, every time it shut or opened, which denoted so strongly the absent and dreaming heart of the woman who loves.
The fact is, he stands too much in awe of you, and would rather keep you out of the House than contribute an iota towards obtaining you a seat. Upon all this, you may rely as certain." "I thank you from my heart," said I, warmly, seizing and pressing Lady Roseville's hand. "You tell me what I have long suspected; I am now upon my guard, and they shall find that I can offend as well as defend.
That extraordinary man still continued powerfully to excite my interest; nor could I dwell, without some yearning of the kindlier affections, upon his unsolicited, and, but for Lady Roseville's communication, unknown exertions in my cause.
There was a youth who, as with toil and travel, Had grown quite weak and grey before his time; Nor any could the restless grief unravel, Which burned within him, withering up his prime, And goading him, like fiends, from land to land. P. B. Shelley. From Lady Roseville's I went to Glanville's house. He was at home.
Such were among the thousand thoughts which flashed across me, and left my speculations in debate and doubt. Nor did my reflections pass unnoticed the nature of Lady Roseville's affection for Glanville.
There was a youth who, as with toil and travel, Had grown quite weak and grey before his time; Nor any could the restless grief unravel, Which burned within him, withering up his prime, And goading him, like fiends, from land to land. P. B. Shelley. From Lady Roseville's I went to Glanville's house. He was at home.
That extraordinary man still continued powerfully to excite my interest; nor could I dwell, without some yearning of the kindlier affections, upon his unsolicited, and, but for Lady Roseville's communication, unknown exertions in my cause.
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