Linden seized his hand; it was heavy and cold: his eye rested upon the miniature of the unfortunate Lady Merton, which, since the night of the attempted robbery, Talbot had worn constantly round his neck. Strange and powerful was the contrast of the pictured face--in which not a colour had yet faded, and where the hues and fulness and prime of youth dwelt, unconscious of the lapse of years--with the aged and shrunken countenance of the deceased. In that contrast was a sad and mighty moral: it wrought, as it were, a contract between youth and age, and conveyed a rapid but full history of our passions and our life. The servant looked up once more on the countenance; he pointed towards it, and muttered, "See, see how awfully it is changed!" "But there is a smile upon it!" said Clarence, as he flung himself beside the body and burst into tears.