The season of the year was uncommonly fine; and the varied scenery visible from the terrace was, at the moment of Adeline's approach to it, glowing with more than common beauty. Adeline stood for some minutes gazing on it in silent delight; when her reverie was interrupted by the sound of boyish merriment, and she saw, at one end of the terrace, some well-dressed boys at play.
| 'Alas! regardless of their doom |
| The little victims play!' |
immediately recurred to her: for, contemplating the probable evils of existence, she was darkly brooding over the imagined fate of her own offspring, should it live to see the light; and the children at their sport, having no care of ills to come, naturally engaged her attention.
But these happy children ceased to interest her, when she saw standing at a distance from the group, and apparently looking at it with an eye of envy, a little boy, even better dressed than the rest; who was sobbing violently, yet evidently trying to conceal his grief. And while she was watching the young mourner attentively, he suddenly threw himself on a seat; and, taking out his handkerchief, indignantly and impatiently wiped away the tears that would no longer be restrained.
'Poor child!' thought Adeline, seating herself beside him; 'and has affliction reached thee so soon!'
The child was beautiful: and his clustering locks seemed to have been combed with so much care; the frill of his shirt was so fine, and had been so very neatly plaited; and his sun-burnt neck and hands were so very very clean, that Adeline was certain he was the darling object of some fond mother's attention. 'And yet he is unhappy!' she inwardly exclaimed. 'When my fate resembled his, how happy I was!' But from the recollections like these she always hastened; and checking the rising sigh, she resolved to enter into conversation with the little boy.
'What is the matter?' she cried.—No answer. 'Why are you not playing with the young gentlemen yonder?'
She had touched the right string:—and bursting into tears, he sobbed out, 'Because they won't let me.'
'No? and why will they not let you?' To this he replied not; but sullenly hung his blushing face on his bosom.
'Perhaps you have made them angry?' gently asked Adeline. 'Oh! no, no,' cried the boy; 'but—' 'But what?' Here he turned from her, and with his nail began scratching the arm of the seat.