*** Lord Glenarvon
was of a disposition to attend so wholly to those in whose presence he took
delight, that he failed to remember those to whom he had once been attached; so
that like the wheels of a watch, the chain of his affections might be said to
unwind from the absent, in proportion as they twined themselves around the
favourite of the moment; and being extreme in all things, he could not
sufficiently devote himself to the one, without taking from the other all that
he had given.
It were vain to detail the petty instances
of barbarity he employed. The web was fine enough, and wove with a
skillful hand. He even consulted with Lady Mandeville in what manner to
make his inhuman triumph more poignant - more galling; and when he heard that
Calantha was irritated even unto madness, and grieved almost unto death, he only
mocked at her folly, and despised her still remaining attachment to
himself. "Indeed she is ill," said Sophia, in answer to his insulting
inquiry, soon after her arrival at Mortanville Priory. "She is even
dangerously ill." "And pray may I ask of what malady?" he replied, with a
smile of scorn. "Of one, Lord Glenarvon," she answered with equal irony,
"which will never endanger your health - of a broken heart." He laughed.
***