صفحة 61 من 483

The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and

soul, in one pursuit. It was a most beautiful season; never did

the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest or the vines yield a

more luxuriant vintage, but my eyes were insensible to the charms

of nature. And the same feelings which made me neglect the scenes

around me caused me also to forget those friends who were so many

miles absent, and whom I had not seen for so long a time. I knew

my silence disquieted them, and I well remembered the words of my

father: "I know that while you are pleased with yourself you will

think of us with affection, and we shall hear regularly from you.

You must pardon me if I regard any interruption in your

correspondence as a proof that your other duties are equally

neglected."