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 "Would to heaven! (she said) I had continued a little longer with her; it would have comforted me to have known that the kindnesses, the attentions, the nameless little offices of love, which soften the pangs of sickness and of death, had been paid to her."

From her melancholy meditations she was roused by a knock at the chamber-door. She started; hastily rose, and opening it, beheld her father.

"I hope, my dear Madeline (cried he, taking her hand) that the long and free indulgence of your grief has lightened your heart, and enabled you to make exertions against a sorrow, not only useless, but injurious. I hope (continued he, observing her trickling tears), that in the grave of your friend you have not buried all consideration for your father's peace—a father, who can know no happiness but what is derived from witnessing your's."