"When nothing she can say or do will alter it--I will tell her myself.

She is so happy in the hope of my recovery! What good can be gained by telling her beforehand of the penalty that I pay for my deliverance?
My ugly color will never terrify my poor darling.
As for other persons, I shall not force myself on the view of the world.
It is my one wish to live out of the world.

The few people about me will soon get reconciled to my face.

Lucilla will set them the example.

She won't trouble herself long about a change in me that she can neither feel nor see." Ought I to have warned him here of Lucilla's inveterate prejudice, and of the difficulty there might be in reconciling her to the change in him when she heard of it?
I dare say I ought, I daresay I was to blame in shrinking from inflicting new anxieties and new distresses on a man who had already suffered so much.