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Rh was so sweet to be cared for—love with her took even a tenderer tone from gratitude. Mary's was the very nature to put forth all its strength and beauty under the fostering influence of affection—she was a delicate flower that needed sunshine to unfold its brightest colours, and bring forth its sweetest breath. She had been living in a fairy world, which her own heart supplied with poetry. The least selfish of human beings, the advantages of a union with Lord Allerton had never crossed her mind, unless it were to think of how delightful it would be to have her sisters staying with her. But all this hope and happiness passed away like a dream. With no fault of which she was conscious, no cause which she could even imagine, she saw his attentions suddenly transferred to another. Mary could only remember all she had ever heard of inconstancy, and repeat, night after night, the same exclamation, "I am very unhappy—oh! that I had never seen him!" To yield sadly and submissively seemed all that she could do. Her rival, Henrietta, would not have yielded so unresistingly; but Henrietta was artful, decided, and selfish. It is a strange thing, but true nevertheless, that a lover is most easily influenced by the woman who does not care for him. She is disturbed by no fears or doubts; fretted by no jealousies, she is ready to flatter, and collected enough to observe when and where the flattery will tell. Having no feelings of her