linked together by ties of so painful a nature, and dwelling together
In companionship. The one, richly gifted with youthful loveliness,
clad in a deep mourning habit, and bearing on her countenance an air
of fixed dejection. The other, though far her elder in years, still
beautiful,--with her long silver hair, blanched by sorrow, not by
time, hanging over her shoulders; and wearing, as if in mockery of
her unconscious widowhood, the gaudy and embroidered raiment to which
a glimmering remembrance of happier times appeared to attach her--
that vacant smile and wandering glance of insanity lending at times a
terrible brilliancy to her features. But for the most part her malady
assumed a cast of settled melancholy, and patient as

"The female dove ere yet her golden couplets are disclosed,
Her silence would sit drooping."

Her gentleness and submission would have endeared her to a guardian
even less tenderly interested in her fate than Helen Percy; towards
whom, from her first interview, she had evinced the most gratifying
partiality. "I know you," she said on beholding her. "You have the
look and voice of Percy; you are a ministering angel whom he has sent
to defend his poor Theresa from the King; now that she is sad and
friendless. You will never abandon me, will you?" continued she,
taking her hand and pressing it to her bosom.

"Never--never--so help me heaven!" answered the agitated Helen; and
that sacred promise remained unbroken.