now so entirely removed, that, sanctioned by a self-approving conscience, she could have felt herself free to have indulged attachment for him; now, when her heart had dilated with the idea of becoming his future companion, of mitigating his sorrows, and of sharing his joys,—"How vain, how wrong, how censurable, to have allowed thought, busy and active thought, thus to wander! How erroneous in her to imagine that the former attachment which Douglas professed for her might revive!—had he not been wedded, and attached to another!" she mentally ejaculated.
In losing his wife, Douglas, if he had not been passionately enamoured of her, had loved her tenderly; and as he had conceived his destiny would for ever oppose an union with Rosilia, the first and only female capable of truly and deeply assimilating with his mind and its affections, he had resolved entirely to devote himself to his profession, and give up every future idea of forming a second time the matrimonial tie.
Previous to his having become a widower, he had an occasion of renewing a friendship with one who had been a student with him in his days of youth, the recollection of which, together with meeting abroad, naturally helped to strengthen the intimacy formerly existing. Douglas, however, perceived a sensible alteration in the manners of his friend since he had assumed the title of manhood. He had always known him to possess eccentricity of character, tinctured with romance—a heart sensitive, a
