ABSTRACT
The morning had hardly begun to dapple the east, before the horses were at the door which were to convey Captain Rivers and Ned upon their journey. Ned envied every peasant he saw, nay even the trees whose rooted habitation detained them in the neighbourhood of Cecilia. He cast his eyes up to the windows of her chamber, which were still closed, and breathed forth an ardent prayer for the beloved inhabitant, whose sleeping fancy was perhaps just then occupied with the visionary repetition of their last night’s conversation. O did he turn his head as the groves of Ravensdale receded from his view; and at the last spot from whence its friendly turrets could be seen, he stopped his horse, and gazed a long farewell – ‘Adieu, sweet shades! and ye, beloved and revered inhabitants! May Heaven shed its selectest/ blessings on your heads, and grant us once again to meet in joy!’
