XVIIAfterwards.
“—But who that has loved forgets?”
Old Song.
Five years, fruitful in many a silent change, have passed since the life-chronicle which filled these pages, closed with Georgie Breton’s peaceful death; fruitful in so great changes, that before parting with the different persons who have filled our story-world, it is tempting to take one last glance into their altered lives & households, that we may carry away with us the memory, not of what they were, but of what they are. The villa at Nice in which Lord Breton & his young wife died has passed into other hands; but the story of the old English Lord’s death, followed so soon & so tragically by that of the beautiful milady, still clings to it, & marks it with a peculiar interest. As for Mrs. Rivers, on her eldest daughter’s d
