Thy lips so pale, that gently press'd my cheek;
Thy voice--alas! Thou could'st but try to speak;--
All told thy doom; I felt it at my heart;
The shaft had struck--I knew that we must part."

Sprague.


It is not easy to describe the sensation of loss that came over me after
the interment of my sister. It is then we completely feel the privation
with which we have met. The body is removed from out of our sight; the
places that knew them shall know them no more; there is an end to all
communion, even by the agency of sight, the last of the senses to lose its
hold on the departed, and a void exists in the place once occupied. I felt
all this very keenly, for more than a month, but most keenly during the
short time I remained at Clawbonny. The task before me, however, will not
allow me to dwell on these proofs of sorrow, nor do I know that the reader
could derive much advantage from their exhibition.

I did not see Rupert at the funeral. That he was there I knew, but either
he, himself, or Lucy for him, had managed so well, as not to obtrude his
person on my sight. John Wallingford, who well knew my external or visible
relation to all the Hardinges, thinking to do me a pleasure, mentioned, as
the little procession returned to the house, that young Mr. Hardinge had,
by dint of great activity, succeeded in reaching Clawbonny in time for the
funeral. I fancy that Lucy, under the pretence of wishing his escort,
contrived to keep her brother at the rectory during the time I was abroad.

On reaching the house, I saw all my connexions, and thanked them in person
for this proof of their respect for the deceased. This little duty