Far from it.

Yet how I loved her!' What a satisfaction it was to Mrs Chick--a common-place piece of folly enough, compared with whom her sister-in-law had been a very angel of womanly intelligence and gentleness--to patronise and be tender to the memory of that lady: in exact pursuance of her conduct to her in her lifetime: and to thoroughly believe herself, and take herself in, and make herself uncommonly comfortable on the strength of her toleration! What a mighty pleasant virtue toleration should be when we are right, to be so very pleasant when we are wrong, and quite unable to demonstrate how we come to be invested with the privilege of exercising it! Mrs Chick was yet drying her eyes and shaking her head, when Richards made bold to caution her that Miss Florence was awake and sitting in her bed.

She had risen, as the nurse said, and the lashes of her eyes were wet with tears.

But no one saw them glistening save Polly.

No one else leant over her, and whispered soothing words to her, or was near enough to hear the flutter of her beating heart.
'Oh! dear nurse!' said the child, looking earnestly up in her face, 'let me lie by my brother!' 'Why, my pet ?' said Richards.
'Oh! I think he loves me,' cried the child wildly.