The sun shone in upon Miss Moreton's bed, whilst indulging in these delusive and visionary reflections; and it required that she should be fully persuaded of them, to make her amends for the devastating wreck which surrounded her. The mischief done to the Villa and to its internal decorations was very serious; but the noble soul of Corinna soared above common evils, and she gave orders for cleaning, mending, and replacing, with the greatest apparent unconcern. But she was sensible of a sad vacuum at her heart. She was now alone, deserted by all her flatterers, and obliged to relinquish that society, which, next to Montgomery's, was the most delightful to her. Miss Moreton was sensible that this relinquishment had been absolutely necessary to ensure her safety, as well as that of her friend; but she deeply lamented the dullness, and mistaken and low notions of the people of Coventry, whom she had vainly endeavoured to enlighten by a ray of her own Divine Genius! In the absence of all beside, Miss Moreton had recourse to her cousin and her ward! She found Mary with her forehead bound (for though the glass had made only a skin-deep wound, yet it was necessary to exclude it from the air), and her cheeks despoiled of their roses. On Miss Moreton's addressing her with more tenderness than she usually evinced towards her, the full heart of the poor girl overflowed at her eyes, and she burst into tears! Miss Moreton appeared to be somewhat moved with her distress. ‘These people frightened and hurt you last night, I perceive,’ said she; ‘it requires a very strong mind, to meet the torrent of public applause with equanimity and composure.’

‘Surely you do not believe, that your visitors of the last night meant to compliment you, Madam?’ asked Mary, putting her hand to her sore temple, yet smarting with pain. ‘Not exactly that, perhaps: poor creatures! they could not exactly define the nature of their own sentiments, I believe;’ said Miss Moreton, ‘if we were to ask them for an explanation; but no matter.