"It was my task to console the miserable daughter; and such was the angelic softness of Alithea's disposition, that when the first burst of grief was over, she yielded to be consoled. There was no hardness in her regrets. She collected every relic, surrounded herself with every object that might keep alive the memory of her parent. She talked of her continually; and together we spoke of her virtues, her wisdom, her ardent affection, and felt a thrilling, trembling pleasure in recalling every act and word that most displayed her excellence. As we were thus employed, I could contemplate and remark the change the interval of my absence had operated in the beautiful girl--she had sprung into womanhood; her figure was surrounded by a thousand graces; a tender charm was diffused over each lineament and motion that intoxicated me with delight. Before I loved--now I revered her; her mother's angelic essence seemed united to hers, forming two in one. The sentiments these beings had divided were now concentrated in her; and added to this, a breathless adoration, a heart's devotion, which still even now dwells beside her grave, and hallows every memory that remains. "The cold tomb held the gentle form of Mrs. Rivers: each day we visited it, and each day we collected fresh memorials, and exhausted ourselves in talk concerning the lost one. Immediately on my arrival I had written to my uncle, and the cause of my rash act pleading my excuse, it was visited less severely than I expected; I was told that it was well that I displayed affection and gratitude towards a too indulgent friend, though my depravity betrayed itself in the manner even in which I fulfilled a duty. I was bid at once return to the college--after a fortnight had passed I obeyed; and now I lived on Alithea's letters, which breathed only her eloquent regrets--already my own dream of life was formed to be for ever her protector, her friend, her servant, her all that she could deign to make me; to devote myself day after day, year after year, through all my life to her only. While with her, oppressed by grief as we both were, I did not understand my own sensations, and the burning of my heart, which opened as a volcano when I heard her only speak my name, or felt the touch of her soft hand. But, returned to college, a veil fell from my eyes. I knew that I loved her, I hailed the discovery with transport; I hugged to my bosom the idea that she was the first and last being to awaken the tumultuous sensations that took away my breath, dimmed my eyes, and dissolved me into tenderness.