Mr. Thornton never forgave them. Soon after the elopement of his daughter he went abroad on some scientific errand, leaving his property to the care of lawyers, and his house to Mrs. Marks, the widow of a scientific man, whom he had taken for his housekeeper. He returned to Leigh about the time of my father's death, unaltered in temper or feelings. Wrapt in his books and studies, he went nowhere and saw no one. Fate having chosen to burden him with two feminine guests--his niece and myself--he did his best to elude the penalty, by keeping away from us both. Miss Grainger's sojourn at Thornton House was caused by an indiscretion, in which beautiful young ladies will sometimes indulge. She had chosen to divert from the plain daughter of an aunt, with whom she resided, the affections of her betrothed; who was also my grandfather's heir. Edward Thornton lost his intended and her ten thousand pounds, and the beautiful Edith exchanged a luxurious abode and fashionable life for Thornton House and the society of her uncle. A rose and an owl would have been as well matched. Mr. Thornton shunned his niece with all his might; and, not being able to forgive her the sin of her birth, he saw still less of his grand-daughter. A room near that of Mrs. Marks was fitted up for me. There I spent my days, occasionally enlivened by the sound of her alarum-bell; my old books and playthings my only company. Even childish errors win their retribution. I had been an exclusive, unsociable child, caring but for one being, and contemning every other affection and companionship; no one now cared for me. Miss Murray sent me my things, and troubled herself about nothing else; my grandfather I never saw; his niece came not near me; Mrs. Digby imitated her mistress. I was left to Mrs. Marks; she might have been negligent and tyrannical with utter impunity; but though she still considered me in the light of a little animal, and persisted in calling me "Burns," she did her duty by me. My wants were attended to; but that was all; I was left to myself, to solitude and liberty. I was again sickly and languid. To go up and down stairs, to play in the court, wander in the grounds, or walk in the wild and neglected garden behind the house, were exertions beyond my strength. I remained in my room, a voluntary captive, satisfied with looking out of the window. It commanded the grounds below, a green and wild desert, with a bright stream gliding through, and looked beyond them over a soft and fertile tract of country bounded by a waving line of low hills, which opened to afford, as in a vision, a sudden view of some glorious world,-- a glimpse of blending sea and heaven, limited, yet giving that sense of the infinite, for which the mind ever longs and which the eye ever seeks.