too, bloomed the fairest and sweetest of flowers,
which a rich soil and a sheltered situation could produce.
Alas! though, of late many weeds had straggled up among their more
estimable floral culture, for the decayed fortunes of the family had
prevented them from keeping the necessary servants, to place the Hall
and its grounds in a state of neatness, such as it had once been the
pride of the inhabitants of the place to see them. It was then in this
flower-garden that Charles and Flora used to meet.
As may be supposed, he was on the spot before the appointed hour,
anxiously expecting the appearance of her who was so really and truly
dear to him. What to him were the sweet flowers that there grew in such
happy luxuriance and heedless beauty? Alas, the flower that to his mind
was fairer than them all, was blighted, and in the wan cheek of her whom
he loved, he sighed to see the lily usurping the place of the radiant
rose.
"Dear, dear Flora," he ejaculated, "you must indeed be taken from this
place, which is so full of the most painful remembrance; now, I cannot
think that Mr. Marchdale somehow is a friend to me, but that conviction,
or rather impression, does not paralyze my judgment sufficiently to
induce me not to acknowledge that his advice is good. He might have
couched it in pleasanter words--words that would not, like daggers, each
have brought a deadly pang home to my heart, but still I do think that
in his conclusion he was right."
A light sound, as of some fairy footstep among the flowers, came upon
his ears, and turning instantly to the direction from whence the sound
proceeded, he saw what his heart had previously assured him of, namely,
that it was his Flora who was coming.
[Illustration]
Yes, it was she; but, ah, how pale, how wan--how languid and full of the
evidences of much mental suffering was she. Where now was the elasticity
of that youthful step? Where now was that lustrous beaming beauty of
mirthfulness, which was wont to dawn in those eyes?
Alas, all was changed. The exquisite beauty of form was there, but the
light of joy which had lent its most transcendent charms to that
heavenly face, was gone. Charles was by her side in a moment. He had her
hand clasped in his, while his disengaged one was wound tenderly around
her taper waist.
"Flora, dear, dear Flora," he said, "you are better. Tell me that you
feel the gentle air revives you?"
She could not speak. Her heart was too full o
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