As she rose, she sighed a little with the depression of spirits consequent upon her own want of power to amuse and occupy him she loved.
"You're pale, love!" said he, half repenting of his anger at her blunders over the cards.

"Go out before dinner; you know you don't mind this cursed weather; and see that you come home full of adventures to relate.

Come, little blockhead! give me a kiss, and begone." She left the room with a feeling of relief; for if he were dull without her, she should not feel responsible, and unhappy at her own stupidity.

The open air, that kind soothing balm which gentle mother Nature offers to us all in our seasons of depression, relieved her.
The rain had ceased, though every leaf and blade was loaded with trembling glittering drops.

Ruth went down to the circular dale, into which the brown-foaming mountain river fell and made a deep pool, and, after resting there for a while, ran on between broken rocks down to the valley below.