No," she continued with a sort of inward shuddering that seemed to express involuntary horror, "any lot rather than that--the sot, the gambler, the bully, the jockey, the insensate fool, were a thousand times preferable to Rashleigh:--the convent--the jail--the grave, shall be welcome before them all." There was a sad and melancholy cadence in her voice, corresponding with the strange and interesting romance of her situation.

So young, so beautiful, so untaught, so much abandoned to herself, and deprived of all the support which her sex derives from the countenance and protection of female friends, and even of that degree of defence which arises from the forms with which the sex are approached in civilised life,--it is scarce metaphorical to say, that my heart bled for her.

Yet there was an expression of dignity in her contempt of ceremony--of upright feeling in her disdain of falsehood--of firm resolution in the manner in which she contemplated the dangers by which she was surrounded, which blended my pity with the warmest admiration.

She seemed a princess deserted by her subjects, and deprived of her power, yet still scorning those formal regulations of society which are created for persons of an inferior rank; and, amid her difficulties, relying boldly and confidently on the justice of Heaven, and the unshaken constancy of her own mind.
I offered to express the mingled feelings of sympathy and admiration with which her unfortunate situation and her high spirit combined to impress me, but she imposed silence on me at once.
"I told you in jest," she said, "that I disliked compliments--I now tell you in earnest, that I do not ask sympathy, and that I despise consolation.

What I have borne, I have borne--What I am to bear I will sustain as I may; no word of commiseration can make a burden feel one feather's weight lighter to the slave who must carry it.