Cold is that breast which was the repository of her sorrows, silent the tongue which poured sympathy upon them."
When it grew dark she ascended to the cell, for the gloom of the chapel then grew too awful for her to bear. After sitting a considerable time there in a state of painful impatience, she went to a large folding door, which terminated the gallery, and commanded an extensive view of the valley, to try if she could discover any sign of Madame D'Alembert or Floretta, who had said, as I should previously have mentioned, that they would come to her through the garden; but no step, no voice, could she hear, no glimpse of any object could she distinguish.
"They cannot have forgotten me, (said she) they cannot let me pass the night amidst the dead; and yet 'tis far beyond the hour I expected them."
