ABSTRACT
He reached the lonely spot, and its chilling damp fell heavy on his heart. The rays of the moon played on their tomb-stones; and, as Waldorf knelt / beside them, he bedewed the silent marble with his tears. A plain inscription, on the tomb of Millroh, signified her name and age – that of Sophia boasted all the superb grandeur of a Catholic interment: the age of the latter was nineteen, and a prolix epitaph set forth her beauty and qualifications. The modest, unassuming Millroh had bad adieu to life ere she had attained her five-and-twentieth year: no pompous eulogium satirised her ashes; but the calm sobriety of death reigned with decent humility over her silent grave.
