Because she loved him blindly, and because he was wise in his generation, her trust in him was steadfast as her native hills, large as her faith in God.

Now it was sweet beneath her tongue to be able to tell one that was his friend how worthy of all friendship--nay, all reverence--he was.

She spoke simply, but with that strange power of expression which nature had given her.
Gestures with her hands, quick changes in the tone of her voice, a countenance that gave ample utterance to the moment's thought,--as one morning in the Fair View library she had brought into being that long dead Eloisa whose lines she spoke, so now her auditor of to-day thought that he saw the things of which she told.
She had risen, and was standing in the wild light, against the background of the forest that was breathless, as if it too listened, "And so he brought me safely to this land," she said.

"And so he left me here for ten years, safe and happy, he thought.

He has told me that all that while he thought of me as safe and happy.