I liked to watch every action of my godmother; all her movements were so young: she must have been now above fifty, yet neither her sinews nor her spirit seemed yet touched by the rust of age.

Though portly, she was alert, and though serene, she was at times impetuous--good health and an excellent temperament kept her green as in her spring.
While she read, I perceived she listened--listened for her son.

She was not the woman ever to confess herself uneasy, but there was yet no lull in the weather, and if Graham were out in that hoarse wind--roaring still unsatisfied--I well knew his mother's heart would be out with him.
"Ten minutes behind his time," said she, looking at her watch; then, in another minute, a lifting of her eyes from the page, and a slight inclination of her head towards the door, denoted that she heard some sound.

Presently her brow cleared; and then even my ear, less practised, caught the iron clash of a gate swung to, steps on gravel, lastly the door-bell.

He was come.