He was gentle with his mother, and let her caress him as
much as she would, but nothing any one could say could move him--even
Pike's joyous greeting.
The whole of God's world was his enemy--for was he not alone there, robbed
of his mate? Presently the reaction from this violence came, and an
intense apathy set in. A saltless, tasteless existence. What was Parliament
to him? What was his country or his nation? or even his home? Only the
hunting when it came gave him some relief, and then if the run were fast
enough, or the jumps prodigiously high, or his horses sufficiently fresh to
be difficult, his blood ran again for a brief space. But beyond this life
was hell, and often he was tempted to use that little pistol of Dmitry's,
and end it, and sleep. Only the inherent manly English spirit in him, deep
down somewhere, prevented him.
All this time his father grieved and grieved, and the Lady Henrietta spent
hours in tears and prayer. Sir Charles had told her their son had met with
a great sorrow, and they must bow their heads and leave him in peace, so
there were no more gay young parties at Verdayne Place, and gone for ever
were the visions of the grandchildren. Only Mark Grigsby was a constant
visitor, but then--he knew.
Thus a year passed away, and Paul left on a voyage round the world.
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