Sir Henry's generosity, which was totally unexpected by Augustus, served but to imbitter his regrets for the loss of his benefactor. In him he had lost his earliest friend; for his uncle he considered as an entire stranger, and of his parents he retained no recollection. Whatever had been the errors of Sir Henry's judgment, his benevolence had never failed towards Mordaunt; and, while his many virtues had always ensured respect, his kindness had sunk deep in the grateful heart of Augustus, as, in their intercourse, essential obligation had never been cancelled by casual caprice, or rendered irksome by ungracious austerity of manner. He however carefully suppressed his own feelings, in order the better to administer consolation to those of Selina; and while Mrs. Galton and Mr. Temple, with affection almost paternal, used every argument which religion and reason could suggest, to reconcile her as much as possible to her loss; Augustus endeavoured by the tenderest care and unremitting attention to divert her thoughts from her recent calamity, and thereby gradually soften the poignancy of her sorrow. Selina had, till the moment when she was deprived of her father, been totally unacquainted with grief; for when her mother died, she was too young to be sensible of her loss; and Mrs. Galton's almost maternal kindness had filled the void of her infant heart, while she was yet scarcely conscious of its existence. At first she could hardly be persuaded that Sir Henry really breathed no more; so sudden, and to her so unexpected, was his dissolution. But, after she had in some degree relieved her heart, by giving way to the first outrageous burst of sorrow, on being convinced he was indeed no longer in existence, she became almost stupified by the overpowering weight of her misfortune. Sometimes she would rouse herself from her torpor, by questioning herself, was what had passed but a dream, or an agonizing reality? Was it possible she should never more hear his beloved voice, or see the smile of parental fondness play round the cold lips, that were now closed for ever? Was she never again to feel the delight of cheering a parent's couch of sickness by the playful sallies of her imagination, or soothing the acuteness of pain by those considerate attentions affection only teaches us to pay. Alas! from whom could she now expect to hear the joyful sound of welcome, with which her return was always greeted, however short her absence might have been? or from whom could she now hope to meet the approving glance, that more than rewarded the merit it applauded; or experience that partiality, that accorded a ready extenuation of the errors it could not overlook? Whilst these reflections crowded on her mind, she felt as if the spring of all her actions was broken, and in the despondency of the moment, thought she would willingly have exchanged half the remaining years of her life to recal a few short moments of her past existence.