shed radiance from her looks and whose form and motions
were lighter than the chamois of the hills.
The apparition was soon explained. With his permission
my mother prevailed on her rustic guardians to yield
their charge to her. They were fond of the sweet
orphan. Her presence had seemed a blessing to
them, but it would be unfair to her to keep her in
poverty and want when Providence afforded her such
powerful protection. They consulted their village
priest, and the result was that Elizabeth Lavenza became
the inmate of my parents’ house—my
more than sister—the beautiful and adored
companion of all my occupations and my pleasures.
Everyone loved Elizabeth. The passionate and
almost reverential attachment with which all regarded
her became, while I shared it, my pride and my delight.
On the evening previous to her being brought to my
home, my mother had said playfully, “I have a
pretty present for my Victor—tomorrow he
shall have it.” And when, on the morrow,
she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift,
I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words
literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine
to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed
on her I received as made to a possession of my own.
We called each other familiarly by the name of cousin.
No word, no expression could body forth the kind
of relation in which she stood to me—my
more than sister, since till death she was to be mine
only.
Chapter 2
We were brought up together; there was not quite a
year difference in our ages. I need not say
that we were strangers to any species of disunion
or dispute. Harmony was the soul of our companionship,
and the diversity and contrast that subsisted in our
characters drew us nearer together. Elizabeth
was of a calmer and more concentrated disposition;
but, with all my ardour, I was capable of a more intense
application and was more deeply smitten with the thirst
for knowledge. She busied herself with following
the aerial creations of the poets; and in the majestic
and wondrous scenes which surrounded our Swiss home
—the sublime shapes of the mountains, the
changes of the seasons, tempest and calm, the silence
of winter, and the life and turbulence of our Alpine
summers—she found ample scope for admiration
and delight. While my companion contemplated
with a serious and satisfied spirit the magnificent
appearances of things, I delighted in investigating
their causes. The world was to me a secret which
I desired to divine. Curiosity, earnest research
to learn the hidden laws of nature, gladness akin
to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among
the earliest sensations I can remember.
