MARY GREY. 61 



teeth perfectly white and even. She seemed to 

 cling to the old man, and raised her eyes to his 

 face every now and then, with a countenance in 

 which melancholy and dejection were strongly por- 

 trayed. The old man looked at her in return 

 with great affection, and yet with a degree of 

 anxiety on his countenance, which showed that his 

 grand-child, for some cause or other, was the object 

 of his peculiar care. His firm and erect, although 

 aged figure, appeared still more portly by the side 

 of the slender and beautiful creature who seemed 

 to hang upon him for support. It was the honey- 

 suckle clinging to the oak. We joined them as we 

 entered the park, and my companion shook hands 

 with Mary Grey, in a manner which showed much 

 sympathy and feeling. On enquiring after her 

 health, she turned towards him with an expression 

 of misery and mental anguish, but made no reply. 

 She reminded me of Gray's description of 



' The silent maid 

 1 With leaden eye that loves the ground.' 



The old man answered for her. He said that 

 Mary was better; and that he hoped soon to see 

 her as well as ever. Mary shook her head and 

 I shall not soon forget the look of woe she 

 gave him. Her grandfather saw it, and perhaps 

 willing to hide her emotion, he turned from us, 

 and we pursued our walk. My companion then 



