never to see Lord Marchmont again! She shuddered whenever his image came across her; and this dislike was increased by his letters. After a little decent sorrow had been put forth for the late "severe affliction," joined with some weariful truisms about resignation to the will of Providence, the rest of the epistle was filled up with reproofs about her ladyship's extraordinary and improper conduct in setting off without his consent!
Again was the letter flung in the fire, and again absolute loathing towards the writer arose in Henrietta's mind. Days passed on, quiet, languid, and sad. Every day that the weather permitted, Lady Marchmont visited her uncle's grave: it had become the principal object of her existence; and the weather gloomy, cold, and rainy, though at the beginning of summer, harmonised well with her present frame of mind. She seemed to desire nothing beyond her present mode of life; and yet Henrietta was mistaken in supposing that she had now discovered the existence for which she was really best suited. Her keen feelings, and active
