434 A TRUE STORY. 



I made such enquiries concerning her as were in my power, and one 

 of those good-natured gossipping old ladies, to whom the affairs of 

 every one else are more important than their own, furnished me with 

 the outlines of her history. 



Sir Robert Mowbray was the last male representative of a long 

 line of noble ancestors, and the immense estates which by inheritance 

 and bequest had centred in him were the magnificent appanage of 

 this his only daughter. He was the proudest scion of a proud stock, 

 and although his haughtiness was never shown in overbearing con- 

 duct to his inferiors, it was not the less deeply seated in his bo- 

 som. The rector of one of the parishes belonging to Sir Robert, 

 and in which he usually resided, was his most intimate, perhaps his 

 only^ intimate, friend. The connection had begun during their resi- 

 dence at college, and these ties, as they had not been broken by years 

 of separation, were therefore drawn more closely together ; and the 

 similarity of their circumstances, each of them having been early de- 

 prived of the beloved partners of their fortunes, added not a little to 

 the strength of their friendship. Mr. Clifford, such was his name, 

 had a son and only daughter, of nearly the same age as Adela, in 

 whose society she passed the greater part of her time. They were 

 brought up together, and received their instructions from the same 

 masters ; in fact, they were hardly ever separated. This intimacy 

 between the two young ladies was of course the means of bringing 

 William Clifford very frequently into the presence of Adela. As he 

 was by no means destitute of personal advantages, and was endued 

 with an uncommon share of intellect, which he well knew how to ren- 

 der available in conversation,,, it is not surprising that his fascinating 

 manners should have made a deep impression on the mind of his 

 young friend ; and the attentions which he paid her were the more 

 calculated to rivet her attachment that the retired habits of her father 

 prevented her from frequently meeting with the same assiduous re- 

 spect from others which pervaded the conduct of her admirer, and 

 the friendship in which their intimacy had commenced was shortly 

 superseded by the more dangerous bonds of love. He too, with the 

 unthinking rashness of youth, had yielded to the impulse of passion, 

 and forgetting the distance which fortune had set between him and 

 the adored of his heart, thought only of how he might draw her affec- 

 tions more closely around him, and, perhaps, indulging a species of 

 selfishness the most excusable, if that vice ever admits of apology, re- 

 garded only his present enjoyment and the possible fulfilment of his 

 aspiring hopes to the neglect of her future happiness and his own 

 peace of mind. The presence of his sister, though it was a cover 

 for their frequent meetings, was yet a restraint upon their conduct, 

 and might have prevented the evils which I have to relate. But 

 death, who with an unsparing hand crops the spring blossom as well 

 as the ripe fruit, summoned her to an early tomb, and the affections 

 of Adela which before had been divided between the brother and sis- 

 ter, were now centred in one object. Their meetings were not now 

 less frequent than formerly, but they were not so public. They 

 were forced to snatch those hours by stealth in which they communed 

 together, and the secrecy they were obliged to observe, the danger 



