CHAPTER XXIII.
But no brush was able to efface completely the expression of happiness, so that Mrs.Ambrose could not treat them when they came downstairs as if they had spent the morning in a way that could be discussed naturally.

This being so, she joined in the world's conspiracy to consider them for the time incapacitated from the business of life, struck by their intensity of feeling into enmity against life, and almost succeeded in dismissing them from her thoughts.
She reflected that she had done all that it was necessary to do in practical matters.

She had written a great many letters, and had obtained Willoughby's consent.

She had dwelt so often upon Mr.Hewet's prospects, his profession, his birth, appearance, and temperament, that she had almost forgotten what he was really like.

When she refreshed herself by a look at him, she used to wonder again what he was like, and then, concluding that they were happy at any rate, thought no more about it.
She might more profitably consider what would happen in three years' time, or what might have happened if Rachel had been left to explore the world under her father's guidance.