Leaving Lord Belmour, whom Louisa requested to wait a few minutes, she ascended to the chamber of the deceased with Mrs. Mason, where lay the mortal/ remains of the beautiful Miss Conway. Serene and lovely in death, no trace of sorrow was on that countenance, so lately marked with its deepest lines; she appeared to have indeed, by the sweet placidity of her features,

As Louisa bent over the cold inanimate corse, and bedewed its pale face with her tears, she could not help reflecting on the goodness and mercy of God, who had thought proper to call her away from a life so truly wretched as hers must have been: endowed by him with so much sensibility, the remembrance of her past errors would have embittered her future life; but she now humbly trusted her penitence had been accepted, and that her sufferings in this life had atoned for her faults.

She also hoped it would serve as a useful lesson to Lord Belmour; for that/ reason she had brought him with her; the sight of so lovely a woman falling in early youth a victim to his licentiousness, could not fail, she thought, of impressing his mind with contrition and horror against so dangerous a pursuit as that of seduction. It would also, she hoped, operate in favour of the infant, who was brought into the world unconnected with any living soul that any one knew of, except herself.

As soon, therefore, as she could compose her agitated spirits, she requested Lord Belmour would attend her in the chamber of death.