may renew the subject of my visit, and persuade him into consenting."
But her heart sank within her when she thought of the cold, chill obstinacy of her husband; even her toilet could not distract her attention. The rich brocade enveloped her graceful figure, and the diamonds glistened in her luxuriant hair, yet they scarcely won a glance from the wearer: but Lady Marchmont had that perfect style of beauty which nothing could disfigure. Mere prettiness needs the becoming, but beauty asks nothing but itself.
The dinner was dull enough; and that worst sort of dulness which frets the spirits, by perpetual demands on their exertion. Lady Marchmont was thankful when it was over; and she entered her carriage to return home alone, for Lord Marchmont was going to his club, he had lately taken to whist-playing. As she alighted, there seemed an unusual stir in the hall; servants came forward to meet her, and then started back; she knew without asking that something was the matter, and
