NEARLY about this period, the lovely Maria de Rosenvault, in the prime of life, and yet possessed of the same angelic countenance as ever; though deprived of the use of her sylph-like limbs, paid the last awful debt of nature. Before we take a final leave of this victim of man's inconstancy / and caprice, we must be permitted to remark the close of that life, over whose brightest moments of sunshine hung the scarce-ever-wavering, but continually lowering, clouds of severe misfortune.

The officer, who appeared brave and generous, and of the most cultivated understanding, under whose protection the sentiments of friendship, combining with that interest she felt for her daughter, had induced her to place herself, proved to her an afflicting scourge119 for all her former errors. To exculpate him from the calumny which had assailed him, of his having joined the Lancastrian party, and also to retrieve him from pecuniary embarrasments, brought on himself by his extravagance, Maria would, with indefatigable kindness, rise from her bed in the dead of night, traverse the country in a / litter, or on horseback, – for convenient carriages for speed were then unknown, – and often prove to his accusers and slanderers, by her refined sense of reasoning and convincing proofs, how basely he was calumniated; while, from her scanty purse, she would satisfy, as far as she was able, his clamorous creditors, or by her sweet persuasions, render them patient and merciful towards him.

In the height of an ardent fever did she once set out on one of those perilous expeditions; and, falling asleep in an open litter, she manifestly endangered her life. A severe rheumatism was the result, which deprived her for ever of the use of her limbs.