"Those sighs are so very sad, and long, and deep! They seem to have whole volumes in them, as if there was such a weight on him." "Some people say he is not as much altered as they expected," said Richard.
"Oh! do they?
Well! I can't fancy any one feeling it more.

He can't leave off his old self, of course, but--" Ethel stopped short.
"Margaret is a great comfort to him," said Richard.
"That she is.

She thinks of him all day long, and I don't think either of them is ever so happy as in the evening, when he sits with her.

They talk about mamma then--" It was just what Richard could not do, and he made some observation to change the subject, but Ethel returned to it, so far as to beg to know how the arm was going on, for she did not like to say anything about it to papa.
"It will be a long business, I am afraid," said Richard.

"Indeed, he said the other day, he thought he should never have the free use of the elbow." "And do you think it is very painful?
I saw the other day, when Aubrey was sitting on his knee and fidgeting, he shrank whenever he even came towards it, and yet it seemed as if he could not bear to put him down." "Yes it is excessively tender, and sometimes gets very bad at night." "Ah," said Ethel; "there's a line--here--round his eyes, that there never used to be, and when it deepens, I am sure he is in pain, or has been kept awake." "You are very odd, Ethel; how do you see things in people's faces, when you miss so much at just the same distance ?" "I look after what I care about," said Ethel.