d her again and
again, as she assured her she loved her already, she was so like her
dear Edward; then, after satisfying herself that everything was
comfortable, affectionately kissed her, and withdrew.

Bodily fatigue got the better of mental agitation; and Mary slept
soundly, and awoke refreshed.

"Can it be," thought she, as she tried to collect her bewildered
thoughts, "can it be that I have really beheld my mother, that I have
been pressed to her heart, that she has shed tears over me while I lay
unconscious in her arms? Mother! What a delightful sound; and how
beautiful she seemed! Yet I have no distinct idea of her, my head was
so confused; but I have a vague recollection of something very fair, and
beautiful, and seraph-like, covered with silver drapery, and flowers,
and with the sweetest voice in the world. Yet that must be too young for
my mother; perhaps it was my sister; and my mother was too much overcome
to meet her stranger child. Oh, how happy must I be with such a mother
and sister!"

In these delightful cogitations Mary remained till Lady Emily entered.

"How well you look this morning, my dear cousin," said she, flying to
her; "you are much more like my Edward than you were last night. Ah! and
you have got his smile too! You must let me see that very often."

"I am sure I shall have cause," said Mary, returning her cousin's
affectionate embrace; "but at present I feel anxious about my mother and
sister. The agitation of our meeting, and my weakness, I fear it has
been too much for them;" and she looked earnest in Lady Emily's face for
a confirmation of her fears.

"Indeed, you need be under no uneasiness on their account," returned her
cousin, with her usual bluntness; "their feelings are not so easily
disturbed; you will see them both at breakfast, so come along."

The room was empty; and again Mary's sensitive heart trembled for the
welfare of those already so dear to her; but Lady Emily did not appear
to understand the nature of her feelings.

"Have a little patience, my dear!" said she, with something of an
impatient tone, as she rang for breakfast; "they will be here at their
usual time. Nobody in this house is a slave to hours, or _gene _with
each other's society. Liberty is the motto here; everybody breakfasts
when and where they please. Lady Juliana, I believe, frequently takes
hers in her dressing-room; Papa never is visible till two or three
o'clock; and Adelaide is always late."