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124 earliest infancy we never knew the indulgent affection of a parent—that affection which makes so little of faults, which so exaggerates the germ of promise, which so delights even in the bright eye and cheek of the child? Our place was beside the hearth of a stranger, and its very warmth was cold. It matters little to recall this pristine bitterness; but methinks I would fain enlist your pity ere you know my fault.

"The death of Lady Avonleigh followed soon upon my sister's. Lucy died in the spring, when the first violets were putting forth, and the first roses drooped from the briar. There were flowers enough to strew over her lowly grave; but the Countess was laid in the damp stone vault, when not a leaf was on the bough, and the bleak wind of autumn swept the heath. Earth looked her loveliest to receive my sweet sister's gentle dust; but all was harsh and sullen as her own nature when Lady Avonleigh's haughty ashes returned to their original element. Immediately after her demise, her son went abroad, and I accompanied him. He travelled for pleasure, I for knowledge; and utterly vain was the pursuit of each—both ended in vanity and vexation of spirit.

"It was a bright morning when we reined up our horses to catch the first view of fair Padua.