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" His demeanour was polished; his manners singularly affable and gentle; and he was remarkable, for the generosity of his temper. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. " CHAPTER IV. Let us pass, Sir.
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