Years rolled on, and the little Louisa, daily improving in strength and beauty, was the delight of the worthy Mr. Howard and his amiable sister. In the rising beauty of the interesting Orphan, Mrs. Martha fancied she already beheld a strong resemblance of her mother, though only known to her for a short time, and under the influence of pain. Yet hers was a countenance not easily forgotten. As she traced this resemblance, and pointed it out to her brother, he would join her, in begging of heaven that she might be more fortunate in life than the mother/ had been, and that the resemblance might be confined only to her virtues and her beauties.

Mrs. Martha Howard had none of that cold formality which is generally attached to ladies who have passed a certain age unmarried. She was a woman of acute feelings and sound judgment. Her temper was cheerful and conciliating; her disposition benevolent, generous, and affectionate. She had received an excellent education in childhood, which she had improved by study and application, as she advanced in life. Her reading was extensive, but principally directed to those books that improve the mind, and strengthen the understanding. Her favourite study was poetry: she delighted to dwell on the sublime flights of imagination of our best poets, and indulge that soothing, pensive sadness, so pleasing to a wounded mind, which they never fail to create in a bosom of sensibility./

Early in life she had met with a severe disappointment, having been engaged to a youth of exemplary worth, whom she had known from childhood. Their attachment was mutual: they were to have been united in a few days, when the lover was seized with a violent fever, which sunk him to the grave in the bloom of youth, and expectation of happiness.