In modern times, at least when war is not raging, adventures rarely occur to travellers in Europe. Agnes’ journey was attended by no circumstances worthy of record; and even to herself, had few of the charms of novelty, till after she had passed through Switzerland, having, the preceding year, visited that country in the greatest detail with Mr. Wharton, Mrs. Marchmont, and Harry Cowley.

At length the scenery began to excite in her / the most animated interest. They were approaching the Simplon, too often spoken of to admit of any fresh description, but always inexpressibly striking to every new beholder. It was four o'clock in the morning when they began their slow ascent; and they had the advantage of a magnificent moon-light, and the most perfectly calm weather. The gradual changes in the tinge of the surrounding mountains, first seen in the silvery radiance of the moon; then in the thousand glowing colours of sun-rise; and finally, in the full fervour of his meridian blaze, called forth all the enthusiasm and admiration of which Agnes’ unhackneyed feelings were susceptible. Throughout the day, a succession of the most diversified prospects rivetted her attention, and left her nothing to wish for, but more congenial companions. The first night spent at an Italian inn, was to her full of amusement. The walls decorated with fresco paintings, roughly executed, but producing a gay and pleasing / effect, she infinitely preferred to the unmeaning patterns of the papers with which most rooms are covered in France and England. The brick floors did not quite so much invite her approbation; but, in a hot climate, she allowed they might be desirable, however unsightly.