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CHAPTER IX.
THUS sad and disarranged were the thoughts of my poor sister, when she
became assured of the infidelity of Raymond. All her virtues and all her
defects tended to make the blow incurable. Her affection for me, her
brother, for Adrian and Idris, was subject as it were to the reigning
passion of her heart; even her maternal tenderness borrowed half its force
from the delight she had in tracing Raymond's features and expression in
the infant's countenance. She had been reserved and even stern in
childhood; but love had softened the asperities of her character, and her
union with Raymond had caused her talents and affections to unfold
themselves; the one betrayed, and the other lost, she in some degree
returned to her ancient disposition. The concentrated pride of her nature,
forgotten during her blissful dream, awoke, and with its adder's sting
pierced her heart; her humility of spirit augmented the power of the venom;
she had been exalted in her own estimation, while distinguished by his
love: of what worth was she, now that he thrust her from this preferment?
She had been proud of having won and preserved him--but another had won
him from her, and her exultation was as cold as a water quenched ember.
We, in our retirement, remained long in ignorance of her misfortune. Soon
after the festival she had sent for her child, and then she seemed to have
forgotten us. Adrian observed a change during a visit that he afterward
paid them; but he could not tell its extent, or divine the cause. They
still appeared in public together, and lived under the same roof. Raymond
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