She blushed, and the blush was so chaste and maidenly, while the smile that went with it was so ineffably animated and joyous, that Hastings exclaimed, with unaffected admiration, "Surely, fair donzell, Petrarch dreamed of thee, when he spoke of the woman-blush and the angel-smile of Laura.

Woe to the man who would injure thee! Farewell! I would not see thee too often, unless I saw thee ever." He lifted her hand to his lips with a chivalrous respect as he spoke; opened the door, and called his page to attend her to the gates.
Sibyll was more flattered by the abrupt dismissal than if he had knelt to detain her.

How different seemed the world as her light step wended homeward!.