Wilfrid regained the command of his mind, and outwardly seemed recovered beyond all danger of relapse; but he did not deceive himself into believing that Emily was henceforth indifferent to him.

He knew that to stand again before her would be to declare again his utter bondage, body and soul.
He loved her still, loved her as his life; he desired her as passionately as ever.

She was not often in his thoughts no more is the consciousness of the processes whereby our being supports itself.

But he had only to let his mind turn to her, and he scoffed at the hope that any other could ever be to him what Emily had been, and was, and would be.
He saw very little of Beatrice, but it came to his ears that her life had undergone a change in several respects, that she spent hours daily in strenuous study of music, and was less seen in the frivolous world.
No hint of the purpose Beatrice secretly entertained ever reached him till, long after, the purpose became action.

He felt that she shunned him, and by degrees he thought he understood her behaviour.