dust of years, and jealously barred, and the walls themselves abutting
out rudely here and there, as if against violence even from within.




CHAPTER VI.

It was, as we have seen, without taking counsel of the faithful Jemima
that the sage recluse of Norwood had yielded to his own fears and
Randal's subtle suggestions, in the concise and arbitrary letter which he
had written to Violante; but at night, when churchyards give up the dead,
and conjugal hearts the secrets hid by day from each other, the wise man
informed his wife of the step he had taken. And Jemima then--who held
English notions, very different from those which prevail in Italy, as to
the right of fathers to dispose of their daughters without reference to
inclination or repugnance--so sensibly yet so mildly represented to the
pupil of Machiavelli that he had not gone exactly the right way to work,
if he feared that the handsome count had made some impression on
Violante, and if he wished her to turn with favour to the suitor he
recommended,--that so abrupt a command could only chill the heart,
revolt the will, and even give to the audacious Peschiera some romantic
attraction which he had not before possessed,--as effectually to destroy
Riccabocca's sleep that night. And the next day he sent Giacomo to Lady
Lansmere's with a very kind letter to Violante and a note to the hostess,
praying the latter to bring his daughter to Norwood for a few hours, as
he much wished to converse with both. It was on Giacomo's arrival at
Knightsbridge that Violante's absence was discovered. Lady Lansmere,
ever proudly careful of the world and its gossip, kept Giacomo from
betraying his excitement to her servants, and stated throughout the