She is just now giving me a deep delight: she is bringing back to my heart, in warm and beautiful life, realities--not mere empty ideas, but what were once realities, and that I long have thought decayed, dissolved, mixed in with grave-mould.

I possess just now the hours, the thoughts, the hopes of my youth.

I renew the love of my life--its only love--almost its only affection; for I am not a particularly good woman: I am not amiable.

Yet I have had my feelings, strong and concentrated; and these feelings had their object; which, in its single self, was dear to me, as to the majority of men and women, are all the unnumbered points on which they dissipate their regard.

While I loved, and while I was loved, what an existence I enjoyed! What a glorious year I can recall--how bright it comes back to me! What a living spring--what a warm, glad summer--what soft moonlight, silvering the autumn evenings--what strength of hope under the ice-bound waters and frost-hoar fields of that year's winter! Through that year my heart lived with Frank's heart.