I put the talisman in my bosom and the flowers in water,--for _they_ might fade.
There was no one in the room but Edith and myself.

She sat on the side of the bed, a cloud of white fleecy drapery floating over her lap; a golden arrow, the very last in the day, God's quiver darted through the half-open blinds into the clusters of her fair ringlets.

She was the most unaffected of human beings, and yet her every attitude was the perfection of grace, as if she sat as a model to the sculptor.

I thought there was a shade of sadness on her brow.

Perhaps she had seen me conceal the note, and imagined something clandestine and mysterious between me and her brother, that brother whose exclusive devotion had constituted the chief happiness of her life.