Time cannot eradicate the inroads made upon this high-minded woman.

Her failing health speaks of dissolution.

The mother's heart that beat so wildly as she dreamt of the glorious future of her son, now feebly responded to the sluggish torpor of faded hopes.
Other friends are awaited at the Castle.

Ere we have time to turn aside, light steps are flying across the hall and a girlish figure is at our elbow, and the next instant in the arms of Lady Rosamond and Maude.

The childish face of Fanny Trevelyan once seen is not soon to be forgotten.
Oh no, Fanny, you occupy an important niche within our memory! Two years were only a myth--a dream to the young mistress of Trevelyan Hall, save when some other's troubles aroused her sympathy and called forth the fine feelings of her nature.