it was the soul of melancholy beauty.

Alarmed and unhappy, Lady Percy wearied her daughter with inquiries
as to the cause of this inauspicious change; but in vain. Helen
denied that any alteration had taken place in her feelings; and
declared that the new and serious tone of her character arose
naturally from her advance in life, and from the duties devolving
upon her as a wife and mother.

"Be satisfied, dear madam," said she, "that I am still a happy and
adoring wife. You well know that my affections were not won by an
outward show of splendour and gay accomplishments, nor by the common
attraction of an idle gallantry. It was on Greville's high
reputation for just and honourable principles, and on his manly and
noble nature, that my love was founded, and these will never change;
--and if, at times, unpleasant circumstances should arise,
into which my sex and age unfit me to inquire to throw a cloud over
his features, or a transient peevishness into his humour, it would
ill become me--in short," continued she in a trembling voice, and
throwing her arms around Lady Percy's neck, to conceal her tears,
"in short, dear Madam, you must remember that dearly, tenderly,
dutifully, as Helen loves her mother, the wife of Greville can have
no complaints to make to the Countess of Percy*." *[See "The family
Legend"]

But however well the suffering wife might succeed in disguising the
bitterness of wounded affection from her inquiring family, she could
not conceal it from herself. She had devoted herself, in the pride of
youthful beauty, to the most secluded retirement, through romantic
attachment for one who had appeared to return her love with at least