The recollection of his ruined health, of his
habits (so much at variance with those of the world),--all the
difficulties that reason suggested, were inadequate to check the exulting
tide of hope and joy.
CHAPTER III.
"And let the aspiring youth beware of love,--
Of the smooth glance beware; for 'tis too late
When on his heart the torrent softness pours;
Then wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame
Dissolves in air away."
THOMSON.
A few months passed over the heads of Ellen Langton and her admirers,
unproductive of events, that, separately, were of sufficient importance to
be related. The summer was now drawing to a close; and Dr. Melmoth had
received information that his friend's arrangements were nearly completed,
and that by the next home-bound ship he hoped to return to his native
country. The arrival of that ship was daily expected.
During the time that had elapsed since his first meeting with Ellen, there
had been a change, yet not a very remarkable one, in Fanshawe's habits. He
was still the same solitary being, so far as regarded his own sex; and he
still confined himself as sedulously to his chamber, except for one hour--
the sunset hour--of every day. At that period, unless prevented by the
inclemency of the weather, he was accustomed to tread a path that wound
along the banks of the stream.
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