diately for assistance; but before he returned, the body was cold, and almost stiff. He then hastened to the Castle, and easily obtained leave for Lady Catherine to remain with her afflicted friend. Adeliza was grateful to her Catherine for her kind intention, but would, upon no account, hear of her remaining with her.

"As the loss," said she, "my dear Catherine, is irreparable, so the grief I feel is deep and immoveable. Do not, therefore, I beseech you, my love, distress me by your kindness. Let me entreat you to return to the Castle, and leave me to the misery of my desolate condition, for I am now an orphan !"

Before the funeral took place, Adeliza looked over the papers that belonged to her mother, in case there might be any directions for her to follow: this was the

last act of duty she should ever have it in her power to perform. How solemn, how heart-rending a task was this! Nothing, however, of any consequence was discovered: some valuable diamonds were all the treasure met with; which, together with her father's and mother's miniatures, she carefully laid by. Adeliza, though her heart was almost broken, yet exerted herself, and behaved with the most astonishing fortitude, giving every necessary direction, and seeing it put in execution.

The family at the Castle were shocked and grieved at the sad events a single day had so disastrously combined; and united in declaring that they would do all that lay in their power, to reconcile the fair orphan to her truly melancholy fate.

Adeliza, left alone in the chamber where lay the cold remains of her much-loved

and

and highly valued mother, had mournful time to reflect at leisure on the awful vicissitudes of life! Both parents torn from her by the relentless hand of Death! How dreadful, how desolate was her situation! To think was almost madness, but to avoid harrowing reflexion, impossible.

The day soon arrived on which the remains of the hapless Mrs. Pembroke were to be consigned to their last cold abode. Adeliza, with the domestics of the family, alone attended the solemn scene, where the grief of the honest creatures bore ample and honourable testimony to the amiable qualities of their much-lamented mistress. Adeliza was deeply affected by their artless sorrow and expressions of concern, and retired to indulge in all the luxury of

woe.

What steps ought next to be taken,

D 5

Adeliza

Adeliza felt herself unequal to decide upon. The melancholy events that had, in such rapid succession, succeeded one another, had scarcely allowed her time to feel the real extent of the loss she had sustained; but now she began to reflect with anguish intolerable on her situation, and passed the night in tears of bitter grief.

A few days brought Lady Catherine, with her darling Margaret, in hopes of diverting the deep melancholy under which Adeliza sunk; and, at the same time, a letter from the Countess, written in a style of the most soothing kindness, entreating Adeliza to accompany her daughters back to Raby Castle.

Adeliza's heart shrunk at the idea of company; but her

being obliged to mix in

friends so warmly urged her to comply

1

with their wishes, and accompany them, at the same time promising that she should, in every respect, be her own mistress, and mix with the company, or not, as she might incline, that, at last, she reluctantly consented, and, with a heavy, aching heart, stepped into the carriage with her two amiable friends.