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154 shrubs around; the grass glistening with dew, gigantic flowers bright with the sunshine on their rich hues, and all open as if rejoicing in the morning, many-coloured birds flitting among the leaves—all these made a scene which might have gladdened the heart of the mourner, and raised to their highest pitch the buoyant spirits of youth; and yet, in the midst of the lawn, beneath a young banana tree, were two children, evidently quite unexhilarated by the freshness of the air or the cheerfulness of the morning. The one was a boy of about nine years of age. He was seated on a bough of the tree which had been trained artificially along the ground. He had been reading, but the book lay on the grass, for his arm supported the head of a little creature about three years old who was leaning against him, half in affection, half for support. There was something very striking, and yet sad, in the appearance of these children, they were singularly handsome and singularly alike; but the cheek might have been marble, it was so utterly devoid of colour, and the faint crimson of the lip was parched and feverish, and the pale face was more striking from the profusion of thick black hair and the large dark and melancholy looking eyes. The boy