And in these long weeks in which she was anguished by the spectacle of suffering, it had become her first desire to be of comfort to the sufferer.

Her ideal of a placid life was shattered; the things which availed her formerly now seemed weak to rely upon.

In so dark a world, what guidance was there save by the hand of love?
With Egremont she was in full intellectual sympathy, and the thought of becoming his wife had no painful associations; but could she bring herself to abandon that ideal of love which had developed with her own development?
Must she relinquish the hope of a great passion, and take the hand of a man whom she merely liked and respected?
It was a question she must decide, for Walter, when they again met, might again seek to win her.

The idealism which she derived from her father would not allow her yet to regard life as a compromise, which women are so skilled in doing practically, though the better part in them to the end revolts.

Yet who was she, that life should bestow its highest blessing upon her?
When at the Tyrrells' house in London, she feared lest Egremont should come.