Elvira
observed, and tried to laugh her out of this childish prejudice:
She chid her mildly for encouraging such ungrounded sadness, and
warned her how dangerous it was to encourage such ideas.
To all her remonstrances She received no other answer than,
'Mother! Dear Mother! Oh! would to God, it were Morning!'
Elvira, whose inquietude respecting her Daughter was a great
obstacle to her perfect reestablishment, was still labouring
under the effects of her late severe illness. She was this
Evening more than usually indisposed, and retired to bed before
her accustomed hour. Antonia withdrew from her Mother's chamber
with regret, and till the Door closed, kept her eyes fixed upon
her with melancholy expression. She retired to her own
apartment; Her heart was filled with bitterness: It seemed to
her that all her prospects were blasted, and the world contained
nothing for which it was worth existing. She sank into a Chair,
reclined her head upon her arm, and gazed upon the floor with a
vacant stare, while the most gloomy images floated before her
fancy. She was still in this state of insensibility when She
was disturbed by hearing a strain of soft Music breathed beneath
her window. She rose, drew near the Casement, and opened it to
hear it more distinctly. Having thrown her veil over her face,
She ventured to look out. By the light of the Moon She perceived
several Men below with Guitars and Lutes in their hands; and at a
little distance from them stood Another wrapped in his cloak,
whose stature and appearance bore a strong resemblance to
Lorenzo's.
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