It was an historical subject, painted at my father's desire, and represented Caroline Beaufort in an agony of despair, kneeling by the coffin of her dead father.

Her garb was rustic, and her cheek pale; but there was an air of dignity and beauty, that hardly permitted the sentiment of pity.

Below this picture was a miniature of William; and my tears flowed when I looked upon it.

While I was thus engaged, Ernest entered: he had heard me arrive, and hastened to welcome me: "Welcome, my dearest Victor," said he.

"Ah! I wish you had come three months ago, and then you would have found us all joyous and delighted.