The little misunderstanding between Edith and myself weighed heavily on my spirits, and I longed to be alone.
Just as we were crossing the hall of entrance, Richard Clyde came in.

He greeted me with so much feeling, such earnest, unaffected pleasure, yet a pleasure so chastened by sensibility, I realized, perhaps for the first time, the value of the heart I had rejected.
"You have been ill, Gabriella," said he, retaining for a moment the hand he had taken.

"You look pale and languid.

You do not know how much your friends have suffered on your account, or how grateful they feel for your convalesence." "I did not think I was of so much consequence," I replied.

"It is well to be sick now and then, so as to be able to appreciate the kindness of friends." "You must suffer us to go now, Richard," said Mrs.Linwood moving towards the staircase; "you will find merry company in the parlor ready to entertain you.