Every thing was so new in this life at Brentham to Lothair, as well as
so agreeable, that the first days passed by no means rapidly; for,
though it sounds strange, time moves with equal slowness whether we
experience many impressions or none. In a new circle every character is
a study, and every incident an adventure; and the multiplicity of the
images and emotions restrains the hours. But after a few days, though
Lothair was not less delighted, for he was more so, he was astonished at
the rapidity of time. The life was exactly the same, but equally
pleasant; the same charming companions, the same refined festivity, the
same fascinating amusements; but to his dismay Lothair recollected that
nearly a fortnight had elapsed since his arrival. Lord St. Aldegonde
also was on the wing; he was obliged to go to Cowes to see a sick
friend, though he considerately left Bertha behind him. The other
son-in-law remained, for he could not tear himself away from his wife.
He was so distractedly fond of Lady Montairy that he would only smoke
cigarettes. Lothair felt it was time to go, and he broke the
circumstance to his friend Bertram.

These two "old fellows," as they mutually described each other, could
not at all agree as to the course to be pursued. Bertram looked upon
Lothair's suggestion as an act of desertion from himself. At their time
of life, the claims of friendship are paramount. And where could
Lothair go to? And what was there to do? Nowhere, and nothing.
Whereas, if he would remain a little longer, as the duke expected and
also the duchess, Bertram would go with him anywhere he liked, and do
any thing he chose. So Lothair remained.

In the evening, seated by Lady Montairy, Lothair observed on her
sister's singing, and said, "I never heard any of our great singers, but
I cannot believe there is a finer voice in existence."