The truth, in this respect, was of too much importance to me not to make me a vigilant observer.

His mirth was easily perceived to be the fruit of exertion.

When his thoughts wandered from the company, an air of dissatisfaction and impatience stole across his features.

Even the punctuality and frequency of his visits were somewhat lessened.

It may be supposed that my own uneasiness was heightened by these tokens; but, strange as it may seem, I found, in the present state of my mind, no relief but in the persuasion that Pleyel was unhappy.
That unhappiness, indeed, depended, for its value in my eyes, on the cause that produced it.