The rural dean thought that such cases as that related by the
surgeon were rather an illustration of passion electrified back to
life than of a latent, true affection. The story had suggested that
he should try to recount to them one which he had used to hear in
his youth, and which afforded an instance of the latter and better
kind of feeling, his heroine being also a lady who had married
beneath her, though he feared his narrative would be of a much
slighter kind than the surgeon's. The Club begged him to proceed,
and the parson began.
DAME THE THIRD: THE MARCHIONESS OF STONEHENGE
By the Rural Dean
I would have you know, then, that a great many years ago there lived
in a classical mansion with which I used to be familiar, standing
not a hundred miles from the city of Melchester, a lady whose
personal charms were so rare and unparalleled that she was courted,
flattered, and spoilt by almost all the young noblemen and gentlemen
in that part of Wessex. For a time these attentions pleased her
well. But as, in the words of good Robert South (whose sermons
might be read much more than they are), the most passionate lover of
sport, if tied to follow his hawks and hounds every day of his life,
would find the pursuit the greatest torment and calamity, and would
fly to the mines and galleys for his recreation, so did this lofty
and beautiful lady after a while become satiated with the constant
iteration of what she had in its novelty enjoyed; and by an almost
natural revulsion turned her regards absolutely netherward, socially
speaking.
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