Horror ſeized her, another piſtol lay charged on the table; ſhe caught it up, but religion held her hand; ſhe knelt down by a dead father, and prayed to a ſuperior one. Her mind grew calmer, yet ſtill ſhe paſſionately wiſhed ſhe had but heard him ſpeak, or that ſhe had conveyed comfort to his departing ſpirit—where, where would it find comfort? again ſhe was obliged to have recourſe to prayer.
After the death of her father, her aunt treated her as if ſhe were a mere dependent on her bounty; and expected her to be an humble companion in every ſenſe of the word. The viſitors took the tone from her ladyſhip, and numberleſs were the mortifications ſhe had to bear.
The entrance of a perſon about buſineſs interrupted the narration; but Mrs. Maſon promiſed to reſume it after dinner.
