Where rose the mountains, there for her were friends,
Where fell the valley, therein was her home;
Where the steep rock and dizzy peak ascends,
She had the passion and the power to roam.
The crag, the forest, cavern, torrent's foam,
Were unto her companions, and they spake
A natural language clearer than the tone
Of her best books, which she would oft forsake
For Nature's pages, lit by moonbeams on the lake.--BYRON.
Jealousy, once called to life in any human heart, is not easily to be
destroyed. Sybil Berners' almost unconscious jealousy suddenly called
into existence, and as suddenly soothed to sleep, was awakened again by
something that occurred just as the travellers were about to start.
It was the merest trifle, yet one of those trifles which turn the course
of fate just as surely as the little switch of the railroad controls the
direction of the train.
The travellers were just entering the stage-coach. Mr. Berners handed
in first Mrs. Blondelle, then Mrs. Berners, and then he himself entered.
"You sit down here in this right-hand corner, Lyon, dear, and I will sit
in the middle next to you, and Mrs. Blondelle shall sit in the left-hand
corner next to me," said Sybil, still standing while she pointed out
their several places on the back seat; and she spoke perhaps under the
influence of a latent jealousy, that instigated her to place herself
between her husband and her guest, for that long journey.
"No, no, my dear, not so; but if you will change places with me and take
the right-hand corner-seat, while our fair friend occupies the left-hand
one, I will sit between you two ladies, the proverbial 'thorn between
two roses,'" replied Lyon Berners, gayly and gallantly, with perhaps on
his side a latent desire to sit next the beautiful blonde, but also
quite unconscious of how these words had disappointed and wounded her
whom he would not have willingly wronged for the world.
Sybil silently took her seat, leaving the others to follow her example.
Mr. Berners politely put Mrs. Blondelle in the left-hand corner, and
then seated himself in the middle seat, between his wife and her guest.
In front of them, on the movable central seat, sat Mrs. Blondelle's
child and nurse. Facing them on the front seat, with their backs to the
horses, were the two negro servants, Mr. Berners' valet and Mrs.
Berners' maid.
Though the morning was a very fine one for travelling, there were no
other passengers inside, or out. Mr. Berners and his party had the whole
coach to themselves, at least, at starting.
Sybil thought she had never seen her husband in gayer spirits. As the
horses started and the coach rattled along over the stony streets of the
city, Mr. Berners turned smilingly to Mrs. Blondelle, and said: "I know of few pleasanter things in this pleasant world than a journey
through our native State of Virginia, taken at this delightful season of
the year; and of all routes I know of none affording such a variety of
beautiful and sublime scenery as this we are now starting upon."