om the great clock--the ancient
monitor of the hall below. From these melancholy expectations she
endeavoured to relieve her spirits by recollecting all that she had ever
heard, concerning the joyous vintage of the plains of Languedoc; but
there, alas! no airy forms would bound to the gay melody of Parisian
dances, and a view of the rustic festivities of peasants could afford
little pleasure to a heart, in which even the feelings of ordinary
benevolence had long since decayed under the corruptions of luxury.

The Count had a son and a daughter, the children of a former marriage,
who, he designed, should accompany him to the south of France; Henri,
who was in his twentieth year, was in the French service; and Blanche,
who was not yet eighteen, had been hitherto confined to the convent,
where she had been placed immediately on her father's second
marriage. The present Countess, who had neither sufficient ability, or
inclination, to superintend the education of her daughter-in-law, had
advised this step, and the dread of superior beauty had since urged
her to employ every art, that might prevail on the Count to prolong
the period of Blanche's seclusion; it was, therefore, with extreme
mortification, that she now understood he would no longer submit on this
subject, yet it afforded her some consolation to consider, that, though
the Lady Blanche would emerge from her convent, the shades of the
country would, for some time, veil her beauty from the public eye.

On the morning, which commenced the journey, the postillions stopped at
the convent, by the Count's order, to take up Blanche, whose heart beat
with delight, at the prospect of novelty and freedom now before her. As
the time of her departure drew nigh, her impatience had increased, and
the last night, during which she counted every note of every hour, had
appeared the most tedious of any she had ever known. The morning light,
at length, dawned; the matin-bell rang; she heard the nuns descending
from their chambers, and she started from a sleepless pillow to welcome
the day, which was to emancipate her from the severities of a cloister,
and introduce her to a world, where pleasure was ever smiling, and
goodness ever blessed--where, in short, nothing but pleasure and
goodness reigned! When the bell of the great gate rang, and the sound
was followed by that of carriage wheels, she ran, with a palpitating
heart, to her lattice, and, perceiving her father's carriage in the