And now sharper feelings came shooting through her heart, whether pain or pleasure she could hardly tell. Every mile was redolent of associations, which she would not have missed for the world, but each of which made her cry upon "the days that are no more," with ineffable longing. The last time she had passed along this road was when she had left it with her father and mother--the day, the season, had been gloomy, and she herself hopeless, but they were there with her. Now she was alone, an orphan, and they, strangely, had gone away from her, and vanished from the face of the earth. It hurt her to see the Helstone road so flooded in the sunlight, and every turn and every familiar tree so precisely the same in its summer glory as it had been in former years. Nature felt no change and was ever young.

Whether she felt pain or pleasure, Margaret could hardly tell. Every mile was full of associations which she would not have missed for the world, but which made her long for 'the days that are no more.' The last time she had passed along this road was when she left with her father and mother. Now she was alone, an orphan, and they had vanished from the face of the earth. It hurt her to see the Helstone road so flooded in sunlight, and every familiar tree so precisely the same in its summer glory as it had been in former years. Nature felt no change, and was ever young.
