CHAPTER XXXVI.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN GODOLPHIN AND SAVILLE.--CERTAIN EVENTS
EXPLAINED.--SAVILLE'S APOLOGY FOR A BAD HEART.--GODOLPHIN'S CONFUSED
SENTIMENTS FOR LADY ERPINGHAM.

"Good Heavens! Constance Vernon once more free!"

"And did you not really know it? Your retreat by the lake must have been
indeed seclusion. It is seven months since Lord Erpingham died."

"Do I dream?" murmured Godolphin, as he strode hurriedly to and fro the
apartment of his friend.

Saville, stretched on the sofa, diverted himself with mixing snuffs on a
little table beside him. Nothing is so mournfully amusing in life as to
see what trifles the most striking occurrences to us appear to our
friends.

"But," said Saville, not looking up, "you seem very incurious to know how
he died, and where. You must learn that Erpingham had two ruling
passions--one for horses, the other for fiddlers. In setting off for
Italy he expected, naturally enough, to find the latter, but he thought he
might as well export the former. He accordingly filled the vessel with
quadrupeds, and the second day after landing he diverted the tedium of a
foreign clime with a gentle ride. He met with a fall, and was brought
home speechless. The loss of speech was not of great importance to his
acquaintance; but he died that night, and the loss of his life was! for he
gave very fair dinners--ah,--bah!" And Saville inhaled the fragrance of a
new mixture.