been condensed by melancholy, yet made her wish to be silent. The music,
more than the conversation, disturbed her reflections; but not at first.
The gentleman who played on the german-flute, was a handsome, well-bred,
sensible man; and his observations, if not original, were pertinent.

The other, who had not said much, began to touch the violin, and played
a little Scotch ballad; he brought such a thrilling sound out of the
instrument, that Mary started, and looking at him with more attention
than she had done before, and saw, in a face rather ugly, strong lines
of genius. His manners were awkward, that kind of awkwardness which is
often found in literary men: he seemed a thinker, and delivered his
opinions in elegant expressions, and musical tones of voice.

When the concert was over, they all retired to their apartments. Mary
always slept with Ann, as she was subject to terrifying dreams; and
frequently in the night was obliged to be supported, to avoid
suffocation. They chatted about their new acquaintance in their own
apartment, and, with respect to the gentlemen, differed in opinion.




CHAP. X.


Every day almost they saw their new acquaintance; and civility produced
intimacy. Mary sometimes left her friend with them; while she indulged
herself in viewing new modes of life, and searching out the causes which
produced them. She had a metaphysical turn, which inclined her to
reflect on every object that passed by her; and her mind was not like a