loose in all its fury, it was like oil poured on agitated waters, which produces a temporary calm immediately round the ship. As yet the storm only muttered at a distance, but madame was disturbed by anxious presages. In her case, “Old experience actually did attain To something like prophetic strain.” But it was not new to her to prophecy in vain. I, for my part, was charmed with the manners of these exalted visitors of aunt’s, and not a little proud of their attention to her, not knowing that they showed pretty much the same attention to every one. While I was dancing on air with the thoughts of going to live at the Flats, of the beauties of Clarendon, and many other delights which I had created to myself, an event took place that plunged us all in sorrow; it was the death of the lovely child Catalina, who was the object of much fondness to us all, for my parents, bating the allowance to be made for enthusiasm, were as fond of her as I was. Madame had set her heart very much on this engaging creature; she mustered up all her fortitude to support the parents of her departed favourite, but suffered much notwithstanding. Here began my acquaintance with sorrow. We went, however, to the Flats in autumn. Our family consisted of a negro girl, and a soldier, who had followed my father’s fortunes from Scotland, and stuck to him through every change. We did not mean to farm, but had merely the garden, orchard, and enclosure for hay, two cows, a horse for my father, and a colt, which, to my great delight, was given me as a present. Many sources of comfort and amusement were now cut off from madame; her nephew and his lively and accomplished wife had left her; Dr. Ogilvie was removed to New-York, and had a successor no way calculated to supply his place. This year she had lost her brother-in-law Cornelius Cuyler,[23] whose sound sense and intelligence made his society of consequence to her, independent of the great esteem and affection she had for him. The army, among whom she always found persons of information and good breeding, in whose conversation she could take pleasure which might be truly called such, were gone. Nothing could compensate, in her opinion, for the privation of that enjoyment; she read, but then the people about her had so little taste for reading, that she had not her wonted pleasure in that, for want of some one with whom she could discuss the topics suggested by her studies. It was in this poverty of society, such as she was accustomed to enjoy, that she took a fancy to converse much with me, to regret my want of education, and to take a particular interest in my employments and mental improvement. That I might more entirely profit by her attention, she requested my parents to let me pass the winter with her: this invitation they gladly complied with. Footnote 23: