She spoke but very seldom of her religion,
though it filled her heart and influenced all her behaviour. Whenever she
came to that sacred subject, her demeanour appeared to her husband so
awful that he scarcely dared to approach it in her company, and stood
without as this pure creature entered into the Holy of Holies. What must
the world appear to such a person? Its ambitious rewards,
disappointments, pleasures, worth how much? Compared to the possession of
that priceless treasure and happiness unspeakable, a perfect faith, what
has Life to offer? I see before me now her sweet grave face, as she looks
out from the balcony of the little Richmond villa we occupied during the
first happy year after our marriage, following Ethel Newcome, who rides
away, with a staid groom behind her, to her brother's summer residence,
not far distant. Clive had been with us in the morning, and had brought
us stirring news. The good Colonel was by this time on his way home. "If
Clive could tear himself away from London," the good man wrote (and we
thus saw he was acquainted with the state of the young man's mind), "why
should not Clive go and meet his father at Malta?" He was feverish and
eager to go; and his two friends strongly counselled him to take the
journey.
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