CHAPTER XXVIII.
Live while ye may, yet happy pair; enjoy Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed .-- MILTON.
The autumn and the winter passed away; Mordaunt's relation continued implacable.

Algernon grieved for this, independent of worldly circumstances; for, though he had seldom seen that relation, yet he loved him for former kindness--rather promised, to be sure, than yet shown--with the natural warmth of an affection which has but few objects.

However, the old gentleman (a very short, very fat person; very short and very fat people, when they are surly, are the devil and all; for the humours of their mind, like those of their body, have something corrupt and unpurgeable in them) wrote him one bluff, contemptuous letter, in a witty strain,--for he was a bit of a humourist,--disowned his connection, and very shortly afterwards died, and left all his fortune to the very Mr.Vavasour who was at law with Mordaunt, and for whom he had always openly expressed the strongest personal dislike: spite to one relation is a marvellous tie to another.

Meanwhile the lawsuit went on less slowly than lawsuits usually do, and the final decision was very speedily to be given.
We said the autumn and the winter were gone; and it was in one of those latter days in March, when, like a hoyden girl subsiding into dawning womanhood, the rude weather mellows into a softer and tenderer month, that, by the side of a stream, overshadowed by many a brake and tree, sat two persons.
"I know not, dearest Algernon," said one, who was a female, "if this is not almost the sweetest month in the year, because it is the month of Hope." "Ay, Isabel; and they did it wrong who called it harsh, and dedicated it to Mars.

I exult even in the fresh winds which hardier frames than mine shrink from, and I love feeling their wild breath fan my cheek as I ride against it.