it! Oh! ye children of poverty and distress—ye, like the unhappy Madeline, have lost a mother."
Madeline knew not the strength or tenderness of her attachment to the Countess till she was deprived of her; in losing her, she lost all hope of comfort; for to none, as to her, could she impart the fears, the wishes, the expectations, which had so long, and still at times, agitated her heart; and which, by being concealed, she knew would fatally corrode its peace. Yet not for the tenderness which had poured balm upon its sorrows, not for the counsel which had regulated its impulses, not for the wisdom which had guarded its inexperience, did she lament alone; exclusive of all consideration for herself she bitterly wept the death of her benefactress, and imagined, was she but alive again, her own tranquillity would in some degree be restored, though the next moment she should be transported to an immeasurable distance from her.
