CHAPTER XXVI.
LADY MARCHMONT TO SIR JASPER MEREDITH.
There is in life no blessing like affection:
It soothes, it hallows, elevates, subdues,
And bringeth down to earth its native heaven.
It sits beside the cradle patient hours,
Whose sole contentment is to watch and love;
It bendeth o'er the death-bed, and conceals
Its own despair with words of faith and hope.
Life has nought else that may supply its place:
Void is ambition, cold is vanity,
And wealth an empty glitter, without love.
My Dearest Uncle,—I have this morning been returning the visit of the young Duchess of Marlborough. I should lose the reputation that I am gradually acquiring among our impenetrables here, were I to confess the excitement which I felt at the idea of entering his house—the house of that great general under whose command you made your first charge. It was to be quite a visit d'amitié, so she was
