After the departure of her mother, Ann still continued to languish,
though she had a nurse who was entirely engrossed by the desire of
amusing her. Had her health been re-established, the time would have
passed in a tranquil, improving manner.

During the year of mourning they lived in retirement; music, drawing,
and reading, filled up the time; and Mary's taste and judgment were both
improved by contracting a habit of observation, and permitting the
simple beauties of Nature to occupy her thoughts.

She had a wonderful quickness in discerning distinctions and combining
ideas, that at the first glance did not appear to be similar. But these
various pursuits did not banish all her cares, or carry off all her
constitutional black bile. Before she enjoyed Ann's society, she
imagined it would have made her completely happy: she was disappointed,
and yet knew not what to complain of.

As her friend could not accompany her in her walks, and wished to be
alone, for a very obvious reason, she would return to her old haunts,
retrace her anticipated pleasures--and wonder how they changed their
colour in possession, and proved so futile.

She had not yet found the companion she looked for. Ann and she were not
congenial minds, nor did she contribute to her comfort in the degree she
expected. She shielded her from poverty; but this was only a negative
blessing; when under the pressure it was very grievous, and still more
so were the apprehensions; but when exempt from them, she was not
contented.