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Rh The truth is, they had lived too much apart—apart at the time when tastes, more than opinions, are formed, and when the memory treasures up pleasures and sorrows, hopes and disappointments, which, whether good or bad, are such perpetual and grateful subjects of familiar discourse afterwards. They had nothing in common, and this led to constant restraint; their conversation was always brief and confined, because neither ever spoke of the things which really interested them—and confidence is the soul of domestic affection.

Years passed by, and Lawrence Aylmer was surprised at the riches which he had accumulated; yet he could not deceive himself into the belief that they added to his enjoyment. His thoughts went continually back to her who was cold in the unconscious grave. Ah! his wealth might have added to her happiness; but, like most good things in this world, it came too late.