II.
THE FATED HOUR.
“Wan the maiden was,
Of saintly paleness, and there seem’d to dwell
In the strong beauties of her countenance
Something that was not earthly.”
Southey’s Joan of Arc.
“The clock has toll’d; and, hark! the bell
Of death beats slow.”Mason’s Elegies.
A heavy rain prevented the three friends from taking the morning’s walk they had concerted: notwithstanding which, Amelia and Maria failed not to be at Florentina’s house at the appointed hour. The latter had for some time past been silent, pensive, and absorbed in thought; and the anxiety of her friends made them very uneasy at the visible impression left on her mind by the violent tempest of the preceding night.
Florentina met her friends greatly agitated, and embraced them with more than usual tenderness.
“Fine weather for a walk!” cried Amelia: “how have you passed this dreadful night?”
“Not very well, you may easily imagine. My residence is in too lonely a situation.”
