"This is the easy kind of thing that makes you Blush for the author if you find it in a novel." XXX.
Mrs.March fairly took Miss Triscoe in her arms to kiss her.

"Do you know I felt it must be you, all the time! When did you come?
Where is your father?
What hotel are you staying at ?" It appeared, while Miss Triscoe was shaking hands with March, that it was last night, and her father was finishing his breakfast, and it was one of the hotels on the hill.

On the way back to her father it appeared that he wished to consult March's doctor; not that there was anything the matter.
The general himself was not much softened by the reunion with his fellow-Americans; he confided to them that his coffee was poisonous; but he seemed, standing up with the Paris-New York Chronicle folded in his hand, to have drunk it all.

Was March going off on his forenoon tramp?
He believed that was part of the treatment, which was probably all humbug, though he thought of trying it, now he was there.

He was told the walks were fine; he looked at Burnamy as if he had been praising them, and Burnamy said he had been wondering if March would not like to try a mountain path back to his hotel; he said, not so sincerely, that he thought Mrs.March would like it.
"I shall like your account of it," she answered.