He drew near this lily, which had sucked its waxen beauty and perfume from below a depth of waters which he had never penetrated, and out of ooze and mould which he could not understand.

He drew near because it was waxen and fresh.

It lightened his feelings for him.

It made the morning worth while.
In a material way, she was considerably improved.

Her awkwardness had all but passed, leaving, if anything, a quaint residue which was as pleasing as perfect grace.