in the first days of her affliction, she was visited by monsieur barreaux, a sincere mourner for st.aubert.'i may well lament my friend,' said he, 'for i shall never meet with his resemblance.if icould have found such a man in what is called society, i should not have left it.'
m.barreaux's admiration of her father endeared him extremely to emily, whose heart found almost its first relief in conversing of her parents, with a man, whom she so much revered, and who, though with such an ungracious appearance, possessed to much goodness of heart and delicacy of mind.
several weeks passed away in quiet retirement, and emily's affliction began to soften into melancholy.she could bear to read the books she had before read with her father; to sit in his chair in the library--to watch the flowers his hand had planted--to awaken the tones of that instrument his fingers had pressed, and sometimes even to play his favourite air.
when her mind had recovered from the first shock of affliction, perceiving the danger of yielding to indolence, and that activity alone could restore its tone, she scrupulously endeavoured to pass all her hours in employment.and it was now that she understood the full value of the education she had received from st.aubert, for in cultivating her understanding he had secured her an asylum from indolence, without recourse to dissipation, and rich and varied amusement and information, independent of the society, from which her situation secluded her.nor were the good effects of this education confined to selfish advantages, since, st.aubert having nourished every amiable qualify of her heart, it now expanded in benevolence to all around her, and taught her, when she could not remove the misfortunes of others, at least to soften them by sympathy and tenderness;--a benevolence that taught her to feel for all, that could suffer.