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Rh and unusual situation. And yet 'tis well:—make that week the gloomiest we can—exclude the glad daylight—silence the human voice and step—yet how soon, amid the after-hurry and selfishness of life, will that brief space of mourning be forgotten! There is wisdom in even the exaggeration of grief—there is little cause to fear we should feel too much. It was nearly one o'clock when Emily began her solitary watch; and as the last sound died along the passage, her heart died within her too. Who shall account for the cold, creeping sensation that, in the depth of the night, steals over us? Who is there that has not felt that vague, but strong terror, which induces us—to use a childish, but expressive phrase—to hide our head under the bedclothes, as if there was some appearance which to look for was to see?—when we ourselves could give no definite cause for our fear, which our reason at the very moment tells us is folly, and tells us so in vain. Even grief gave way before this sensation in Emily. She had said to herself that she would pray by the dead—take a long, last gaze on features so dear; and now she was rivetted to