captiousness of her temper proportionally exhibited itself. She
insisted upon the companionship of her son, and that he should not
leave the house in such unseasonable weather. If he resisted, she fell
into one of her jealous rages, and taunted him with loving strangers
better than his own mother. Cadurcis, on the whole, behaved very well;
he thought of Lady Annabel's injunctions, and restrained his passion.
Yet he was not repaid for the sacrifice; his mother made no effort
to render their joint society agreeable, or even endurable. She was
rarely in an amiable mood, and generally either irritable or sullen.
If the weather held up a little, and he ventured to pay a visit to
Cherbury, he was sure to be welcomed back with a fit of passion;
either Mrs. Cadurcis was angered for being left alone, or had
fermented herself into fury by the certainty of his catching a fever.
If Plantagenet remained at the abbey, she was generally sullen; and,
as he himself was naturally silent under any circumstances, his mother
would indulge in that charming monologue, so conducive to domestic
serenity, termed 'talking at a person,' and was continually
insinuating that she supposed he found it very dull to pass his day
with her, and that she dared say that somebody could be lively enough
if he were somewhere else.

Cadurcis would turn pale, and bite his lip, and then leave the room;
and whole days would sometimes pass with barely a monosyllable being
exchanged between this parent and child. Cadurcis had found some
opportunities of pouring forth his griefs and mortification into the
ear of Venetia, and they had reached her mother; but Lady Annabel,
though she sympathised with this interesting boy, invariably
counselled duty. The morning studies were abandoned, but a quantity of
books were sent over from Cherbury for Plantagenet, and Lady Annabel
seized every opportunity of conciliating Mrs. Cadurcis' temper in