yourself, and you find that, when he does talk, he has neither an idea
nor a sentiment--alas! alas for you, young bride, if you have ever known
the charm of intellect, or the sweetness of sympathy. But it was not for
Caroline to complain; struggling against her own weight of sorrow, she
had no immediate perception of her companion's vapidity. It was he, poor
man, who complained. He just detected enough of her superiority of
intelligence to suspect that he was humiliated, while sure that he was
bored. An incident converted his growing indifference into permanent
dislike not many days after their marriage.

Lord Montfort, sauntering into Caroline's room, found her insensible
on the floor--an open letter by her side. Summoning her maid to her
assistance, he took the marital privilege of reading the letter which had
apparently caused her swoon. It was from Matilda, and written in a state
of maddened excitement. Matilda had little enough of what is called
heart; but she had an intense selfishness, which, in point of suffering,
supplies the place of a heart. It was not because she could not feel for
the wrongs of another that she could not feel anguish for her own.
Arabella was avenged. The cold-blooded snake that had stung her met
the fang of the cobra-capella. Matilda had learned from some anonymous
correspondent (probably a rival of Gabrielle's) of Jasper's liaison with
that adventuress. But half recovered from her confinement, she had risen
from her bed--hurried to Paris (for the pleasures of which her husband
had left her)--seen this wretched Gabrielle--recognised in her the false
baroness to whom Jasper had presented her--to whom, by Jasper's
dictation, she had written such affectionate letters--whom she had
employed to plead her cause to her father;--seen Gabrielle--seen her at
her own luxurious apartment, Jasper at home there--burst into vehement
wrath-roused up the cobra-capella; and on declaring she would separate
from her husband, go back to her father, tell her wrongs, appeal to his