THE YOUTH AND MANHOOD OF CYRIL THORNTON. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH; M.DCCC.XXVII. THE 955 4221 You V.3 YOUTH AND MANHOOD OF CYRIL THORNTON. CHAPTER I. Take heed you steer your vessel right, my son ; DRYDEN. On the following morning, Lucy and myself bade farewell to our excellent and kind friends, and set out for Staunton Court. There were wet eyes at our departure, and young and bright countenances were darkened with sorrow; yet there was no tear on the cheek of Laura Willoughby, no outward sign of inward agitation, when the words of parting kindness were exchanged between us. Her countenance was calm and unmoved as that of a statue, and but for one long and convulsive heave of her bosom, as she quickly turned from me to cast herself into the arms of Lucy, her figure, too, might at that moment, have been taken, for one wrought into the semblance of life, by the Promethean art of the sculptor. Then, however, and not till then, came the burst of grief; and never, I believe, were purer tears shed from angel-eyes, than bedimmed the cheeks of these innocent and lovely girls. But, painful as it is, the moment of parting comes at last. The weeping Lucy was assisted to the carriage by Frank Willoughby and myself; and, after one kind pressure of the hand, and one kind look, poor Lucy's effort was over, and we were rapidly moving onward, to our destination. For the first mile or two, she leant her head upon my shoulder, and was sorrowful and silent. But the change of scene and object, which every minute was presenting to her view, and the excitement of rapid locomotion to one little accustomed to travelling, wrought their usual effect, and, before the conclusion of the first stage, all traces of grief had been obliterated from her countenance. There is a pleasure in travelling with a young and happy creature, smiling in the exuberance of her own innocent delight-to whom all that she beholds, comes clad in the charm of novelty. Lucy had a thousand questions to ask, and I to answer; and when at length fatigued by her long-continued task of observation, she warbled for me a sweet and lively song, often stopping suddenly, with a note half modulated on her lips, when any new object appeared to excite her curiosity, or interest. We slept that night on the road, and the next day found us rapidly approaching the termination of our journey. It was about three o'clock when we drove through the splendid gateway into the large outer park, which stretched for miles on every side of the mansion. During the latter part of the journey, a change had come over the spirits of Lucy. External objects had no longer their former power, in swaying the mood of her mind. All her anxiety and inquiries, were now connected with the Lady Melicent; and the impression which she, a sim |