The dampness of the grave-yard clung to me, and the night dews were beginning to fall.
"Are you cold, Gabriella ?" he asked, folding my light mantle more closely round me.

"You are not sufficiently protected from the dewy air.
You are weary and chill.

You do not lean on me.

You do not confide in me." "In whom should I confide, then?
Without father, brother, or protector, in whom should I confide, if ungrateful and untrusting I turn from you ?" As I said this, I suffered my arm to rest more firmly on his, for my steps were indeed weary, and we were now ascending the hill.

My heart was deeply touched by his kindness, and the involuntary ejaculations he uttered, the involuntary caresses he bestowed, when he believed me perfectly unconscious, were treasured sacredly there.