ABSTRACT
Alone in her own room, Althea collected her confused and dissipated thoughts. The first surprise she had felt now gave way to the pity, respect, and apprehension for his safety, with which the manner and the narrative of Marchmont had inspired her, mingled with a sense of the impropriety of her own situation; of which she would probably have been less painfully sensible, had she not been conscious that there was something more than compassion in the extreme concern she felt for Marchmont.
