But I think I see happiness before you, if you choose to take it; he is a noble fellow, Isobel, in spite of that unfortunate weakness." Isobel made no answer, but a slight pressure of the hand she was holding showed that she understood what he meant.

It was no use to tell her uncle that she felt that what might have been was over now.

Bathurst had chatted with her several times the evening before and during the march that morning, but she felt the difference between his tone and that in which he had addressed her in the old times before the troubles began.
It was a subtle difference that she could hardly have explained even to herself, but she knew that it was as a friend, and as a friend only, that he would treat her in the future, and that the past was a closed book, which he was determined not to reopen.
Bathurst talked to Mrs.Hunter and her daughter, both of whom were mere shadows, worn out with grief, anxiety, and watching.

At times he went forward to talk to the young noble, who had taken his seat there.

Both boats had been arched in with a canopy of boughs to serve alike as a protection from the sun and to screen those within from the sight of natives in boats or on the banks.
"You don't look yourself, Bathurst," the Doctor said to him late in the afternoon.