Mrs. Adair, who had been supporting her daughter, now gently placed her head upon the pillow, and silently led Elizabeth out of the room.
At the door of her own apartment she saw Mrs. Lloyd; and desiring her to take the charge of Elizabeth, who appeared almost convulsed with anguish, instantly returned into the chamber she had so recently quitted. After indulging that grief, which the most unfeeling in some measure experience, when they behold the lifeless remains of a being they had loved, she calmly proceeded to accomplish the desire of the departed, in preparing her for that narrow spot, which confines all that was mighty, rich, noble, excellent—the despised of the world, the neglected of the world; that spot which is the boundary of ambition, and the sure refuge for the distressed.
CHAPTER XVI.
When Mrs. Adair had retired to her own chamber, on the night of her daughter’s decease, and was reflecting upon the awful event of the morning, her attention was drawn from the subject by a low whispering sound. Aware that the teachers and servants were retired to rest, she could not account for the circumstance; she now heard doors slowly opening, and was persuaded that different persons were passing her room. Alarmed, but at the same time collected, she cautiously opened her own door; and perceiving a glimmering light proceed from the chamber where her daughter’s remains were laid, resolved to be satisfied, and with light, slow steps, advanced to the spot. There, with surprise, she beheld several of her pupils. At the head of the bed stood Miss Arden, with eyes mournfully bent upon the face of the departed; Miss Damer stooped to kiss the corpse, and then burst into a violent flood of tears. “That smile,” said Miss Cotton, “proves that the soul is rejoicing in heaven. Where shall we again behold upon earth one so amiable or so lovely?”
“O, that I may be equally prepared, when my hour comes,” cried Miss Arden.
“Hush! hush!” cried Isabella Vincent, in a tone of terror, “did you not hear some one breathe? O, do hide me.” She now covered her face with her frock.
Miss Grey took her passive hand, and tried to comfort her. “Look at Miss Jane, and then you will not be frightened; now do look—it is so simple to be afraid; she appears only as if she were asleep. There is not any thing terrible in death, only to wicked people; I am sure I should not be afraid to die to-night.”
“I dare not look! indeed I dare not! do take me to my own room.”