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306 At this moment his eye fell upon some roses that Miss Churchill had brought him: in the confusion they had been thrown upon the floor, and trampled upon. "Just emblems of herself, poor girl," said the kind old man: "a passing wind from the south, a transitory gleam of sunshine, and, lo! those flowers opened to their short and sweet existence! Now, there they lie, carelessly crushed; the little period allotted to their loveliness and fragrance recklessly shortened: and such is the history of that poor child. Her young heart has been awakened to its short summer of hope and love: and how dreary a winter remains behind! She has lost much more than her lover; she has lost confidence in affection, and belief in excellence. Alas for the heart which has surrendered itself to an idol unworthy of its faith!—it has no future. "And yet," continued he, after a pause, "it matters little in what shape our sorrow overtakes us. In all this wide world there is nothing but suffering: the child cries in its cradle; it but begins as it will continue. In all ranks there