Listen, how kindly she speaks.
"My dear Gabriella, this is my son, Ernest.

You know it already, and he knows that you are the child of my adoption.

Nevertheless, I must introduce you to each other." Surprised and touched by the maternal kindness of her manner, (I ought not to have been surprised, for she was always kind,) I looked up, and I know that gratitude and sensibility passed from my heart to my eyes.
"I must claim the privilege of an adopted brother," said he, extending his hand, and I thought he smiled.

Perhaps I was mistaken.

His countenance had a way of suddenly lighting up, which I learned to compare to sunshine breaking through clouds.