THE ORPHAN MAID. 59 



in, I could imagine capable in some measure of deadening the sense 

 of right and wrong, and which is at all events grating to the soul. 

 I now try to read, and have, since I came here, read a great deal ; 

 but all won't do ; my mind is ill at ease. Once, when I was un- 

 happy, I had only to step across the street, hear your voice, see 

 your face, and take hold of your hand, and for a time I forgot all 

 my sorrow. This now I cannot do. At night I sit in a lonely 

 room, nobody within many miles of me I love, left to my own med- 

 itations and the power of darkness, which I have long detested. 



" I think of sad things, and weep the more, because I have no 

 hope of relief. In such moments what a treasure will your picture 

 be to me ! How it will delight me ; make me forget every thing on 

 earth but you, and you looking like what you were when you 

 agreed at last to give it to me. "Would to God it were here! 

 When, Margaret, you see how happy it will make me, how could 

 you refuse it ? And yet to give it me was goodness I had no title 

 to expect, and for which I will often thank you in moments of still- 

 ness and solitude. Oh, what a treasure is a friend like you ! How 

 little is real friendship understood ! Who could ever conceive the 

 happiness I have felt when with you, or so much as dream the mis- 

 ery I endured when I left you for a long, long time ! As long as 

 there is a moon or stars in the firmament will I remember you ; 

 and when I look on either, the recollection of Dychmont Hill, the 

 house, the trees, the wooden seat, which I am grieved is away, will 

 enter my mind, and make me live over again the happiest period 

 of my existence. Last night I was in heaven. I dreamed that I 

 was sitting in the drawing-room at College Buildings with you 

 alone, as I have often done. The room was dark, the window-shut- 

 ters close ; the fire was little and just twinkling. I had my feet 

 upon the fender ; you were sitting in the arm-chair ; I was beside 

 you; your hand was in mine; we were speaking of my going to 

 Oxford ; you were promising to write me ; I was sad, but happy ; 

 somebody opened the door, and I awoke alone and miserable. 



"I have given you my promise not to think of a plan you dis- 

 suaded me from carrying into execution. Be assured that I never 

 will change my mind. I consider you as my better angel, for using 

 your simple eloquence to make me abandon the project. It would 

 have been cruel to my dearest friends, and perhaps useless to 

 myself. 



