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Rh the eye could see far around: for the branches were bare, and the distant roofs, no longer concealed by the green leaves in summer, were visible. The cold moonlight gave no cheerfulness; and even that was often obscured by heavy musses of cloud which swept over the pale chill disk. All was dreary—all was emblematic of that change and barrenness which passes away from nature, but never from the heart;—and yet Beatrice was at her window! I saw her head drooped upon her hand; her whole attitude expressing that profound depression, whose lonely vigil wastes the midnight in a gloomy watch, which yet hopes for nothing at its close.

"I hurried past; I could not bear to see her! I endeavoured to think of the future—to imagine the colour returning to that white cheek at my caress, that sunken eye lighting up at my approach! How did my inmost soul vow to watch her slightest look, to win her from her memory by the gentlest cares—to soothe, to cherish her, till gratitude forced from her affection for me! But a voice still asked, 'How dared I buy my happiness at the price of hers?' Conscience forbade me to rely on the future.

"As I entered my lodging, I caught sight of myself in a mirror that hung near. I started at