The interview with Richard Clyde the next day, was a painfully agitating one.

I had no conception till then, how closely and strongly love and hope had twined their fibres round him; or how hard would be the task of rending them from him.

Why could I not appreciate the value of his frank, noble, and confiding nature?
It may be because we had been children together, and that familiarity was unfavorable to the growth of love in one of my poetic nature.

I _must_ look up.

The cloud crowned cliff did not appall my high-reaching eye.
"I shall not see you again, Gabriella," said he, as he wrung my hand in parting.