At the door she was told of Egremont's arrival, and with a look of pleased expectancy she went at once to the library.
Egremont rose from the fireside, and advanced with the quiet confidence with which one greets only the dearest friends.
'So the sunshine has brought you,' she said, holding his hand for a moment.

'We had a terrible storm in the night, and the morning is very sweet after it.

Had you arrived a very little sooner, you would have been in time to drive with me.' She was one of those women who have no need to soften their voice when they would express kindness.

Her clear and firm, yet sweet, tones uttered with perfection a nature very richly and tenderly endowed.
During the past five years she had aged in appearance; the grief which she would not expose had drawn its lines upon her features, and something too of imperfect health was visible there.

But her gaze was the same as ever, large, benevolent, intellectual.