When we had passed an antechamber, he pointed to a door, and admonishing me to be prudent, withdrew.
My hand trembled as it touched the door-knob, but the lock yielded.

Anna was standing in the middle of the room (she had heard my footsteps), an image of womanly loveliness, womanly faith, and womanly feeling.

By a desperate effort, she was, however, mistress of her emotions.

Though her pure soul seemed willing to fly to meet me, she obviously restrained the impulse, in order to spare my nerves.
"Dear Jack!"-- and both her soft, white, pretty little hands met me, as I eagerly approached.
"Anna!--dearest Anna!"-- I covered the rosy fingers with kisses.
"Let us be tranquil, Jack, and if possible, endeavor to be reasonable, too." "If I thought this could really cost one habitually discreet as you an effort, Anna ?" "One habitually discreet as I, is as likely to feel strongly on meeting an old friend, as another." "I think it would make me perfectly happy, could I see thee weep." As if waiting only for this hint, Anna burst into a flood of tears.
I was frightened, for her sobs became hysterical and convulsed.

Those precious sentiments which had been so long imprisoned in her gentle bosom, obtained the mastery, and I was well paid for my selfishness, by experiencing an alarm little less violent than her own outpouring of feeling.
Touching the incidents, emotions, and language of the next half hour, it is not my intention to be very communicative.