'This is twice you have delivered me from such unpleasant companionship.' 'Don't be too thankful,' he answered: 'it is not all kindness to you; it is partly from a feeling of spite to your tormentors that makes me delighted to do the old fellows a bad turn, though I don't think I have any great reason to dread them as rivals.

Have I, Helen ?' 'You know I detest them both.' 'And me ?' 'I have no reason to detest you.' 'But what are your sentiments towards me?
Helen--Speak! How do you regard me ?' And again he pressed my hand; but I feared there was more of conscious power than tenderness in his demeanour, and I felt he had no right to extort a confession of attachment from me when he had made no correspondent avowal himself, and knew not what to answer.

At last I said,--'How do you regard me ?' 'Sweet angel, I adore you! I--' 'Helen, I want you a moment,' said the distinct, low voice of my aunt, close beside us.

And I left him, muttering maledictions against his evil angel.
'Well, aunt, what is it?
What do you want ?' said I, following her to the embrasure of the window.
'I want you to join the company, when you are fit to be seen,' returned she, severely regarding me; 'but please to stay here a little, till that shocking colour is somewhat abated, and your eyes have recovered something of their natural expression.

I should be ashamed for anyone to see you in your present state.' Of course, such a remark had no effect in reducing the 'shocking colour'; on the contrary, I felt my face glow with redoubled fires kindled by a complication of emotions, of which indignant, swelling anger was the chief.