ABSTRACT
During Lady Aubrey’s situation of hope and solicitude, an event took place as terrible as it was unexpected. Sir Edward by a fall, during a fox-chace, was thrown over a steep and craggy precipice, from whence he was conveyed, mangled and lifeless, to Glenowen. I remember the grief and terror which wrung my heart, when I beheld his livid ghastly features, as he lay in state in the gothic hall, decked with all the pompous absurdity of armorial splendour. Lady Aubrey’s affliction was of that species which does not kill; the idea of a funeral was too distressing for her feelings, though they could resist the pang of losing an indulgent husband; and, the day previous to Sir Edward’s interment, Lady Aubrey and Mrs. Blagden departed for Bristol.
