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CHAP. IX.
It is the wretch's comfort still to have
Some small reserve of near and inward woe—
Some unsuspected hoard of darling grief,
Which they, unseen, may wail, and weep, and mourn.
Congreve
In her letter to her father, Madeline carefully guarded against dropping any hint of the event which had accelerated the Countess's death, well knowing that, if she gave the most distant intimation of it, she should prompt inquiries from him, which it would be difficult for her to evade. The news of the Countess's decease soon spread throughout the neighbourhood, and several of her
