efforts she made for that purpose were too faint to succeed, and unable either to beguile her own sadness, or that of her young companion, the day wore heavily away. As they sat, at its decline, by an open window in one of the parlours, and beheld the sun sinking behind the western hills, a deep and involuntary sigh heaved the bosom of Madeline, at reflecting, how very different her feelings were now, from what they had been on the same hour the preceding evening.
The Countess interpreted her sigh, and taking her hand, pressed it between her's. "My dear Madeline! (she exclaimed) my sweet girl, it grieves my heart to see you thus depressed. Your present disappointment, I allow, is great; but reflect, and let the reflection compose your mind: how much greater it would have been, how much more poignantly you must have felt it, had you married de Sevignie, and then, when too late, found him to be the worthless character you are now apprehensive he is.
