{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware advertiser.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
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head of the bed, holding the hand OF her
daughter--would have surprised me, l had
not seen that it was produced by their con-
fidence in young physician, in Titus wig,
curled with the utmost care, who assured
them (admiring himself in the mirror while
he spoke, and flirting, with the end Of his
finger, the remains of pinch of snuff, which
had fallen on the frll of his shirt,) that the
quickness was entirely owing to febrile
movement induced by the paroxysm of the
evening before. / took my leave, feeling
less confidence in the sounding words of the
doctor, than in the prudence of the father,
and the youth of the patient


After quitting this scene, business called
me for few days into the country. On my
return home my porter brought me the let
tiers which had arrived for me during my
absence, amongst these was one Of larger
dimensions than the others; opened it hast
lily, and, inscribed on a grey satin paper
bordered with mournful vignettes, repre-
senting the attributes OF death, read the
words, .Astend the funeral of Robertine."
threw myself into carriage, and on arr
irving at the Hotel de Vilarmont, found the
fatal draperies of death already hung around.
Itraversed the deserted apartments; has
tened to the closet of Monsieur de Vilar-
mont, which found him pacing with length-
ened strides. He saw me, and threw him
self into my arms. without uttering single
word. The silent agony of struggle between
manly fortitute and overwhelming grief, re-
pulsed all those established consultations Of
which Indifference is always SO prodgal.--
Come" said he, after few moments si-
lence Il have need ofyour assistance to force
my wife to quit this house." What
frightful spectacle Altered itself to my eyes
in this unfortunate mother Never have
seen grief under such an agonizing appear
ance. On her knees at the door of her
daughters chamber, which force alone pre-
vented her from entering. She wept not;
her blood shot eyes were dry, fixed, and va
cant, "Robertine, my child" were the only
words which escaped her lips. !, myself,
eiesignedly, resounded this loved name in
her ear, her tears began to flow again; her
strength failed, she tainted away; and we
took advantage of this cruel moment, to car
ry her through the garden to the carriage,
into which her husband accompanied her,
| in order to conduct her to the house of
her father. Ireturned into the parlour, where
all the friends ofthe family were assembled in
gloomy silence, preparatory to the funeral
ceremony. The open windows gave us
view of The great gate of the hotel, where
was the coffin, covered with white silver
tringed drapery and surrounded by twenty
Young girls, clothed in white, with their
I faces covered by long wells, but whose sobs
and prayers were audible even to our ears.
| The master of the ceremonies now came to
acquaint US that all was ready. The body
had been placed upon car, draperied like
the coffin, OIL which were mounted four
Young girs Who held the corners of the
mortuary pail. and who handed to their
companions the strings of silver with which
the coffin was surrounded. The relations,
| in manner buried under their cloaks of
Grape, followed on foot, and the numerous
friends Of the family, in mourning coaches.
prolonged the procession, which was closed
by the servants of the house, clothed in
| black. Our first stoppage was at the church
of the Mathurins where the last Offices ofre-
! ligion were celebrated; after which we pro
cecded, in the same order to the cemetry of
| Mont Martre, where, near the tomb where
sleep the ashes of the Poet of the Seasons,
st. Lambert, the green turf had been hol-
lowed, to receive the remains of charming
being, whom heaven appeared to have shown
to us for few short moments, only to leave
an eternal regret for her loss.


Robertne had no name to transmit to pos
teritv-her memory belongs exclusively to
her disconsolate parents, and for that reason
they have been content to engrave on the
stone which conceals her forever from their
view, the lines of Malherbes, which I have
cited i'll the commencement of this article.
"lom in world, where flowers of farest hue
First fade away;


Herself a rose, she lived, as roses do


But tora day.


