about ten years old and Bernard was twelve, and in their childhood was
commenced a friendship which ripened into love and marriage. Bernard's
father and mother lived long enough to see their first and only
grandchild, and then died, leaving their son a large baronial estate,
500 slaves, and a vast amount of money.

Passionately fond of literature, aesthetic in his tastes, he devoted
himself to poetry and the ancient classics; filled his home with the
finest paintings and the most beautiful statuary, and had his gardens
laid out in the most exquisite manner. And into that beautiful home he
brought his young and lovely bride; but in that fair house where velvet
carpets hushed her tread, and magnificence surrounded her path, she
drooped and faded. Day by day her cheek grew paler, her footsteps
slower, until she passed away like a thing of love and light, and left
her heart-broken husband and a child of six summers to mourn her loss.

Bernard, ever shy and sensitive, grew more so after the death of his
wife. He sought no society; seemed to lose all interest in politics; and
secluded himself in his library till he had almost passed from the
recollection of his nearest neighbors. He superintended the education of
his daughter, because he could not bear the thought of being separated
from her. And she, seeing very little of society, and reading only from
the best authors, both ancient and modern, was growing up with very
little knowledge of the world, except what she learned from books.

Without any female relatives to guide her, she had no other associates
than the servants of her household, and the family of Mr. Le Grange. Her
mother's nurse and favorite servant had taken the charge of her after
her death, and Agnes had been her nurse and companion.