This ill-fated love had given a bewitching softness to her manners, a
delicacy so truly feminine, that a man of any feeling could not behold
her without wishing to chase her sorrows away. She was timid and
irresolute, and rather fond of dissipation; grief only had power to make
her reflect.
In every thing it was not the great, but the beautiful, or the pretty,
that caught her attention. And in composition, the polish of style, and
harmony of numbers, interested her much more than the flights of genius,
or abstracted speculations.
She often wondered at the books Mary chose, who, though she had a lively
imagination, would frequently study authors whose works were addressed
to the understanding. This liking taught her to arrange her thoughts,
and argue with herself, even when under the influence of the most
violent passions.
Ann's misfortunes and ill health were strong ties to bind Mary to her;
she wished so continually to have a home to receive her in, that it
drove every other desire out of her mind; and, dwelling on the tender
schemes which compassion and friendship dictated, she longed most
ardently to put them in practice.
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