bout to move forward." My
nurse placed me in a mourning coach, beside my uncle and his companion,
in order that I might form part of that dismal procession, to the
nearest cemetery. I shall never forget the impression that solemn scene
made on my mind. My first ideas of death and decay were formed whilst
standing beside my mother's grave. There my heart received its first
life-lesson; and owned its first acquaintanceship with grief--the
_ideal_ vanished, and the hard, uncompromising _real_ took its place.

After the funeral was over, I accompanied my Uncle Robert to his house
in Hatton Garden. At the door we parted with Mr. Walters, and many
years elapsed, before I saw his face again.

CHAPTER III.

MY AUNT REBECCA.

Mrs. Moncton welcomed the poor orphan with kindness. She was a little,
meek-looking woman; with a sweet voice, and a very pale face. She might
have been pretty when young, but my boyish impression was that she was
very plain. By the side of her tall, stern partner, she looked the most
delicate, diminutive creature in the world; and her gentle, timid
manner made the contrast appear greater than it really was.

"God bless you! my poor child," said she, lifting me up in her arms and
wiping the tears from my face. "You are young, indeed, to be left an
orphan."

I clasped her neck and sobbed aloud. The sound of her voice reminded me
of my mother, and I began to comprehend dimly all I had lost.

"Rebecca," said my uncle, in a deep, clear voice, "you must not spoil
the boy. There is no need of this display."

His wife seemed as much under the influence of his eye as myself. She
instantly released me from her arms, and quietly placed me in a chair
beside the fire, and in the presence of her husband, she took no more
notice of me than she would have done of one of the domestic animals
about the house. Yet, her eyes rested upon me with motherly kindness,
and she silently took care to administer liberally to all my wants; and
when she did speak, it was in such a soft, soothing tone, that I felt
that she was my friend, and loved her with my whole heart.

My uncle was a domestic tyrant--cruel, exacting, and as obstinate as a
mule; yet, she contrived to live with him on friendly terms; the only
creature in the world, I am fully persuaded, who did not hate him.
Married, as she had been, for money, and possessing few personal
advantages, it was wonderful the influence she had over him in her
quiet way. S