I have seen the same clouds, that, when I came up first, looked like a heap of little snow-hillocks over babies' graves, turn, as soon as I grew happier, to a sort of long bright row of angels.

And you seem always to have had some sorrow when I am sad, and turn bright and hopeful as soon as I grow glad.

Dear Mrs.Buxton! I wish Nancy knew you." The gay, volatile, willful, warm-hearted Erminia was less earnest in all things.

Her childhood had been passed amid the distractions of wealth; and passionately bent upon the attainment of some object at one moment, the next found her angry at being reminded of the vanished anxiety she had shown but a moment before.

Her life was a shattered mirror; every part dazzling and brilliant, but wanting the coherency and perfection of a whole.