"Did you read that paragraph, mamma?" inquired Lady Corisande of the
duchess, in a tone of some seriousness.

"I did."

"And what did yon think of it?"

"It filled me with so much amazement that I have hardly begun to think."

"And Bertram never gave a hint of such things!"

"Let us believe they are quite untrue."

"I hope Bertram is in no danger," said his sister.

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the mother, with unaffected alarm.

"I know not how it is," said Lady Corisande, "but I frequently feel that
some great woe is hanging over our country."

"You must dismiss such thoughts, my child; they are fanciful."

"But they will come, and when least expected -- frequently in church,
but also in the sunshine; and when I am riding too, when, once, every
thing seemed gay. But now I often think of strife, and struggle, and
war -- civil war: the stir of our cavalcade seems like the tramp of
cavalry."

"You indulge your imagination too much, dear Corisande. When you return
to London, and enter the world, these anxious thoughts will fly."