expression of either Adrian or Idris. There was something grand and

majestic in her motions, but nothing persuasive, nothing amiable. Tall,

thin, and strait, her face still handsome, her raven hair hardly tinged

with grey, her forehead arched and beautiful, had not the eye-brows been

somewhat scattered--it was impossible not to be struck by her, almost to

fear her. Idris appeared to be the only being who could resist her mother,

notwithstanding the extreme mildness of her character. But there was a

fearlessness and frankness about her, which said that she would not

encroach on another's liberty, but held her own sacred and unassailable.

The Countess cast no look of kindness on my worn-out frame, though

afterwards she thanked me coldly for my attentions. Not so Idris; her first

glance was for her brother; she took his hand, she kissed his eye-lids, and

hung over him with looks of compassion and love. Her eyes glistened with

tears when she thanked me, and the grace of her expressions was enhanced,

not diminished, by the fervour, which caused her almost to falter as she

spoke. Her mother, all eyes and ears, soon interrupted us; and I saw, that

she wished to dismiss me quietly, as one whose services, now that his

relatives had arrived, were of no use to her son. I was harassed and ill,

resolved not to give up my post, yet doubting in what way I should assert

it; when Adrian called me, and clasping my hand, bade me not leave him. His

mother, apparently inattentive, at once understood what was meant, and

seeing the hold we had upon her, yielded the point to us.

The days that followed were full of pain to me; so that I sometimes

regretted that I had not yielded at once to the haughty lady, who watched

The Last Man