equally favourable for Mrs. Ethelwood's health, could be procured, especially as the Lodge was not hired, but only lent by Sir William, to whom he professed an abhorrence of owing a favour. Surprised, but not quite satisfied on this subject, duty obliged Lionel to promise strict obedience to his father's will; but as it did not extend to forbid a friendly intercourse with Clarinda, her visits of enquiry respecting Mrs. Ethelwood were admitted at the Lodge, where she went daily, after Mrs. Ethelwood became so ill as to be unable to walk out; and Miss Evelyn, or Miss O'Byron, sometimes both, never failed to accompany her thither, where the sufferings of the mother, and the sorrow and tender attentions of the son could not but create a strong interest in any mind of sensibility. As soon as the business that had summoned Mr. Ethelwood to London, was settled, he hastened back to the Lodge, where, on his entrance, he was met by his his son, pale and agitated; and was told by the afflicted youth, that the dying hour of his mother was at hand. When Mr. Ethelwood reached the bedside of his expiring Lady, a momentary gleam of joy crossed her heavenly countenance, and raising herself on her husband's approach, she pressed her quivering lips to his cheek, joined her forehead, bedewed with drops of agony, to his, made an ineffectual effort to speak, then eagerly clasped the hands of her son, fixed her last fond regard on him, then sunk upon his bosom, and the struggle of parting life was over! The grief of Mr. Ethelwood was really great, but that of Lionel surpassed what language can describe. Mr. Ethelwood was attracted at first merely by the external loveliness of his Lady. But as that is a charm that soon fades, or becomes familiar to the eye, and consequently loses its bewitching power, the adoring lover was soon changed into the cold and careless careless husband, as he was not a character capable of understanding or valuing the graces of her mind, although he never refused to acknowledge her merit, and in his heart felt that esteem for her many virtues, that respect for her general conduct, which his behaviour had not always testified; and though surrounded by all that grandeur and affluence could bestow, Mrs. Ethelwood's mind was formed for far superior happiness, and she had been a wretched, though an exemplary wife. CHAP. CHAP. IX. "But let me pay the tribute of my grief, SEATED by the cold remains of his mother, Lionel Ethelwood was fixed in motionless and silent grief, his eyes gazing on the mournful object, and its hands clasped between his own; not a tear fell, but the stupor of unutterable anguish nearly overpowered his reason. His father, more collected, spoke to him, without being heard; he was absorbed in sorrow, and when it became proper for him to quit the apartment, it was was with extreme difficulty that he was prevailed on to withdraw from the melancholy scene. The news of Mrs. Ethelwood's death was speedily conveyed to the Castle. Sir William heard the account with concern, having a respect for the character he had heard of that lady; while Clarinda wept in secret, as she had tenderly regarded Mrs. Ethelwood, and all the family looked sad. Mrs. Ethelwood had particularly desired that whenever she died, her funeral might be conducted with the utmost privacy, and with as little expence as possible. Her remains were therefore borne by poor peasants at midnight, to the parish church, where she had directed they should be deposited; and the money that must have been expended in a costly funeral, was distributed amongst the families of the indigent men who carried her corpse, and some of their most necessitous neighbours, many of whom crowded around her |