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Allan, I believe, got little sleep that night. I know not, whether joy be not a more troublesome bed-fellow than grief—Hope keeps a body very wakeful, I know.
Elinor Clare was the best good creature—the least selfish human being I ever knew—always at work for other people's good, planning other people's happiness—continually forgetful to consult for her own personal gratifications, except, indirectly, in the welfare of another—while her parents lived, the most attentive of daughters—since they died, the kindest of sisters—I never knew but one like her.
It
