e they were with me, all their worth. I was conscious that every other
sentiment, regret, or passion had by degrees merged into a yearning,
clinging affection for them. I had not forgotten the sweet partner of my
youth, mother of my children, my adored Idris; but I saw at least a part of
her spirit alive again in her brother; and after, that by Evelyn's death I
had lost what most dearly recalled her to me; I enshrined her memory in
Adrian's form, and endeavoured to confound the two dear ideas. I sound the
depths of my heart, and try in vain to draw thence the expressions that can
typify my love for these remnants of my race. If regret and sorrow came
athwart me, as well it might in our solitary and uncertain state, the clear
tones of Adrian's voice, and his fervent look, dissipated the gloom; or I
was cheered unaware by the mild content and sweet resignation Clara's
cloudless brow and deep blue eyes expressed. They were all to me--the
suns of my benighted soul--repose in my weariness--slumber in my
sleepless woe. Ill, most ill, with disjointed words, bare and weak, have I
expressed the feeling with which I clung to them. I would have wound myself
like ivy inextricably round them, so that the same blow might destroy us. I
would have entered and been a part of them--so that

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,

even now I had accompanied them to their new and incommunicable abode.

Never shall I see them more. I am bereft of their dear converse--bereft
of sight of them. I am a tree rent by lightning; never will the bark close
over the bared fibres--never will their quivering life, torn by the
winds, receive the opiate of a moment's balm. I am alone in the world--
but that expression as yet was less pregnant with misery, than that Adrian
and Clara are dead.

The tide of thought and feeling rolls on for ever the same, though the
banks and shapes around, which govern its course, and the reflection in the
wave, vary. Thus the sentiment of immediate loss in some sort decayed,
while that of utter, irremediable loneliness grew on me with time. Three
days I wandered through Ravenna--now thinking only of the beloved beings
who slept in the oozy caves of ocean--now looking forward on the dread
blank before me; shuddering to make an onward step--writhing at each
change that marked the progress of the hours.

For three days I wandered to and fro in this melancholy town. I passed
whole hours in going from house to hou