You do look white,--white, delicate, and sweet as a water-lily.

I have a great mind to invite Ernest up to see you, you look so interesting.

He has been like a distracted man, a wandering Jew, an unlaid ghost, ever since you have been ill.

And poor Richard Clyde comes every night to inquire after you, with such a woebegone countenance.

And that great, ugly, magnificent creature of a teacher, he has been too,--you certainly are a consequential little lady." Thus she rattled on, without dreaming of the martyrdom she was inflicting on my weakened nerves.
"I have no doubt you mean to be kind," said I, ready to cry from weakness and irritation; "but if you will only drop the curtains and leave me, I will be so very grateful." "There--the curtains are down.