uttered one word,—it was the name of Welford's courtly guest.
About three weeks from that evening, Mrs. Welford eloped with the young nobleman, and on the morning following that event, the distracted husband with his child disappeared for ever from the town of . From that day, no tidings whatsoever respecting him ever reached the titilated ears of his anxious neighbours; and doubt, curiosity, discussion, gradually settled into the belief that his despair had hurried him into suicide.
Although the unfortunate Mrs. Welford was in reality of a light and frivolous turn, and, above all, susceptible to personal vanity, she was not without ardent affections and keen sensibilities. Her marriage had been one of love, that is to say on her part, the ordinary love of girls, who love not through actual and natural feeling, so much as a forced predisposition. Her choice had fallen on one superior to herself in birth, and far above all in person and address whom she had habitually met. Thus her vanity had assisted her affection, and something strange and eccentric in the temper and mind of Welford had, though at times it
