I know she loves her native land, and I don't think either of us would care to put an ocean between us and rugged old Helvellyn.' 'Of course having made idiots of yourselves up there in the fog and the storm you are going to worship the mountain for ever afterwards,' said her ladyship laughing.
Never had she seemed gayer or brighter.

Perhaps in her heart of hearts she rejoiced at getting Mary engaged, even to so humble a suitor as fortuneless John Hammond.

Ever since the visit of the so-called Rajah she had lived as Damocles lived, with the sword of destiny--the avenging sword--hanging over her by the finest hair.

Every time she heard carriage wheels in the drive--every time the hall-door bell rang a little louder than usual, her heart seemed to stop beating and her whole being to hang suspended on a thread.

If the thread were to snap, there would come darkness and death.