CHAPTER XIV.
BEING A CHAPTER OF TRIFLES.
THE Abby disappeared! It is astonishing how well everybody bore his departure.

My mother scarcely spoke on the subject; but along the irrefragable smoothness of her temperament all things glided without resistance to their course, or trace where they had been.

Gerald, who, occupied solely in rural sports or rustic loves, seldom mingled in the festivities of the house, was equally silent on the subject.

Aubrey looked grieved for a day or two: but his countenance soon settled into its customary and grave softness; and, in less than a week, so little was the Abbe spoken of or missed that you would scarcely have imagined Julian Montreuil had ever passed the threshold of our gate.

The oblivion of one buried is nothing to the oblivion of one disgraced.
Meanwhile I pressed for my departure; and, at length, the day was finally fixed.