When dressed, she drew up the window curtain; but how different the prospect she beheld from the prospects she had been accustomed to; instead of sublime mountains towering to the clouds, or rich meadows, scattered over with flocks and herds, she now beheld high and dirty walls, which completely enclosed a small spot of ground planted with a few stunted trees. She sighed, and a tear stole from her to think she might never more enjoy the sweets of Nature, or mark
——————how spring the tended plants,
How blows the citron grove, what drops the myrrh,
And what the balmy reed—how Nature paints
Her colours—how the bee sits on the bloom
Extracting liquid sweets.
Her melancholy reflections were soon interrupted by the voice of Madame Fleury; she immediately opened the door, and, after the usual salutations of the morning were over, accompanied her to breakfast, which was laid out in the room where they had
