THE LEMON-PLANT. 273 



nor did a hint of capability for, or delight in such 

 studies ever escape her, even to me. I verily be- 

 lieve that, to the day of our separation, she did 

 not know I was acquainted with the number or 

 nature of her accomplishments : yet she had no 

 friend so intimate as I was. 



I recollect that one day she was showing me a 

 little circular flower-stand, where she had arranged 

 her choice plants, just before the window of her 

 favourite boudoir. I looked around me : the room 

 was not large, but delightfully fitted up. There 

 was her piano on one side, and her harp in the 

 corner ; her book-shelves elegantly arranged, with 

 drawings hung round, every one of which she said, 

 was a memento of something dear to her heart. 

 The love of a mother, who perfectly appreciated, 

 and almost idolized this one survivor of her do- 

 mestic circle, had contrived many little useful and 

 ornamental appendages ; while the flower-stand, 

 loaded with odoriferous plants, basked in the plea- 

 sant light of a window which overlooked her little 

 garden, where her two pet families of rare carna- 

 tions and splendid tiger-lilies flourished to her 

 heart's content. I remember thus addressing her, 

 ' Marie, vou perplex and almost make me discon- 

 tented. You are a child of God, yet have no 

 cross.' She looked at me, with a short laugh of 

 surprize, then, while her aspect softened into deep 

 humility, she answered, ' I am, by divine grace, a 



