recovered, stood waiting for me. I lifted her into the chaise; I assured
her that with our four horses we should arrive in London before five
o'clock, the hour when she would be sought and missed. I besought her to
calm herself; a kindly shower of tears relieved her, and by degrees she
related her tale of fear and peril.

That same night after Adrian's departure, her mother had warmly
expostulated with her on the subject of her attachment to me. Every motive,
every threat, every angry taunt was urged in vain. She seemed to consider
that through me she had lost Raymond; I was the evil influence of her life;
I was even accused of encreasing and confirming the mad and base apostacy
of Adrian from all views of advancement and grandeur; and now this
miserable mountaineer was to steal her daughter. Never, Idris related, did
the angry lady deign to recur to gentleness and persuasion; if she had, the
task of resistance would have been exquisitely painful. As it was, the
sweet girl's generous nature was roused to defend, and ally herself with,
my despised cause. Her mother ended with a look of contempt and covert
triumph, which for a moment awakened the suspicions of Idris. When they
parted for the night, the Countess said, "To-morrow I trust your tone will
be changed: be composed; I have agitated you; go to rest; and I will send
you a medicine I always take when unduly restless--it will give you a
quiet night."

By the time that she had with uneasy thoughts laid her fair cheek upon her
pillow, her mother's servant brought a draught; a suspicion again crossed
her at this novel proceeding, sufficiently alarming to determine her not to
take the potion; but dislike of contention, and a wish to discover whether
there was any just foundation for her conjectures, made her, she said,
almost instinctively, and in contradiction to her usual frankness, pretend
to swallow the medicine. Then, agitated as she had been by her mother's