a state of apparently
irremediable distress. Even Claribel shared in the general misery. Not
that the gift of the fairy had lost its influence upon her; the lily was
fresh as ever. She was contented in her own person, and formed no wishes
for herself; but she could not behold the wretched condition of her
friends unmoved. Though not subject to strong emotions, her heart was
tender and affectionate. Her cousins were her sole objects of
attachment, and it was still unabated towards them. Ursula could do
nothing but bewail their sad destiny; she was weak and helpless. Gabriel
was the only rational person of the party. He collected together the
little that remained out of the wreck of the possessions, and tried to
put things in some order to make them more comfortable. The generous old
man never reminded them of the advice he had given, or took to himself
the credit that was his due for his better judgment.

Claribel had used all the arguments she could devise to reconcile
Amaranthe to her altered state, but with little success. One remarkably
fine day she prevailed upon her to go out into the air: they walked to a
part of the grounds that had in their childhood been appropriated as
their play place. Here, while resting on a bench, they were joined by
Adrian. The brother and sister now found words to relieve the weight of
woe that oppressed them, but it was by heaping invectives on the
deceitful Felicia. From accusing the fairy they began to upbraid each
other. "You, Amaranthe," said Adrian, "have no right to complain: you
might at least have been spared the misfortune of poverty. Had it not
been for your abominable vanity and coquetry, you might have been
happily and nobly settled."

"You are unjust to say so, Adrian," retorted his sister; "you know very
well it was your refusing to bestow a fortune upon me, that prevented
many of my lovers from soliciting my hand in marriage; but you were
given up to selfishness, and cared not what became of me."

"For pity's sake, my dear cousins," cried Claribel, "do not quarrel.
Remember, destitute orphans as we are, we have nothing left in this
world but each other, and if we are not united, what is to become of
us?"

Adrian was touched; looking tenderly on his sister, "Claribel is
right," said he. "We are, indeed, bereaved of every thing else, and
shall we forsake each other? Ah, Amaranthe!" he continued, his eyes
swimming in tears, "time was when all our joys and all our wishes