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320 for an omen; and she sprang from the carriage with a step to which her hopes gave their own lightness, and in a moment more was in the room where Beatrice was watching her young companion. The feverish flush with which the pleasure of seeing Lady Mandeville had crimsoned Emily's face soon passed, and she sank back exhausted; while the slight attention she could bestow was again rivetted on the little watch. Lady Mandeville's eyes kept filling with tears as she gazed upon her: she was altered beyond any thing she had even feared. Her position, too, gave the full effect of contrast. She was seated in a low old-fashioned arm-chair, directly below a portrait of herself, that had been taken just before her first visit to London. It had been painted after a fancy of her uncle's; and she was seated in the same old arm-chair, and nearly in the same attitude as now: but there the likeness ended. In the picture, health coloured the loveliness of youth: A volume of fairy tales had fallen from her hand: but her head was evidently still filled