more sensitively shrinks from rude
collision, does not exist, and yet, on whichever side she turns her eyes,
she meets with appalling prejudices or opinions to drive a gentle nature
like hers to madness It may be a misfortune, Adelheid, to want
instruction, and to be fated to pass a life in the depths of ignorance,
and in the indulgence of brutal passions, but it is scarcely a blessing to
have the mind elevated above the tasks which a cruel and selfish world so
frequently imposes."

"Thou wast speaking of thy mild and excellent sister?--"

"Well hast thou described her! Christine is mild, and more than
modest--she is meek. But what can meekness itself do to palliate such a
calamity? Desirous of averting the stigma of his family from all he could
with prudence, my father caused my sister, like myself, to be early taken
from the parental home. She was given in charge to strangers, under such
circumstances of secrecy, as left her long, perhaps too long, in ignorance
of the stock from which she sprang. When maternal pride led my mother to
seek her daughter's society, the mind of Christine was in some measure
formed, and she had to endure the humiliation of learning that she was one
of a family proscribed. Her gentle spirit, however, soon became reconciled
to the truth, at least so far as human observation could penetrate, and,
from the moment of the first terrible agony, no one has heard her murmur
at the stern decree of Providence. The resignation of that mild girl has
ever been a reproach to my own rebellious temper, for, Adelheid, I cannot
conceal the truth from thee--I have cursed all that I dared include in my
wicked imprecations, in very madness at this blight on my hopes! Nay, I
have even accused my father of injustice, that he did not train me at the
side of the block, that I might take a savage pride in that which is now
the bane of my existence. Not so with Christine; she has always warmly
returned the affection of our parents, as a daughter should love the
authors of her being, while I fear I have been repining when I should have
loved. Our origin is a curse entailed by the ruthless laws of the land,
and it is not to be attributed to any, at least to none of these later
days, as a fault; and such has ever been the language of my poor sister
when she has seen a merit in their wishes to benefit us at the expense of
their own natural affection. I would I could imitate her reason and
resignation!"

"The view taken