"I would be more astonished to see a lady get into it," said a gentleman present.
"Then here goes to astonish you," said Letitia, laying hold of the rope and jumping into the basket. In vain did her friends and the workmen below endeavour to dissuade her; up she would go, and up she did go; and it was during her ascent that Egan and a friend were riding towards the church. Their attention was attracted by so strange a sight: and, spurring onward, Egan exclaimed, "By the powers! 't is Letty Dawson! Well done, Letty!--you're the right girl for my money! By Jove! if ever I marry, Letty's the woman." And sure enough she _was_ the woman, in another month.
Now, Fanny would not have done the basket feat, but she had plenty of fun in her, notwithstanding; her spirits were light; and though, for some time, she felt deeply the separation from Edward, she rallied after a while, felt that unavailing sorrow but impaired the health of the mind, and, supported by her good sense, she waited in hopefulness for the time that Edward might claim and win her.
At Merryvale now all was expectation about the anticipated election. The ladies were making up bows of ribbon for their partizans, and Fanny had been so employed all the morning alone in the drawing-room; her pretty fingers pinching, and pressing, and stitching the silken favours, while now and then her hand wandered to a wicker-basket which lay beside her, to draw forth a scissors or a needlecase. As she worked, a shade of thought crossed her sweet face, like a passing cloud across the sun; the pretty fingers stopped--the work was laid down--and a small album gently drawn from the neighbouring basket. She opened the book and read; they were lines of Edward O'Connor's which she drank into her heart; they were the last he had written, which her brother had heard him sing and had brought her
An old man sadly said, "Where's the snow That fell the year that's fled?-- Where's the snow?" As fruitless were the task Of many a joy to ask, As the snow!
The hope of airy birth, Like the snow, Is stain'd on reaching earth, Like the snow: While 't is sparkling in the ray, 'T is melting fast away, Like the snow!
A cold, deceitful thing Is the snow, Though it come on dove-like wing-- The false snow! 'T is but rain disguised appears; And our hopes are frozen tears, Like the snow!