She continued talking in random suggestions, and with singular heat, as if she conceived that the sensibility of her sisters required to be aroused.

By moving and acting, it seemed to her that the prospect of a vast misery might be expunged, and that she might escape from showing any likeness to Arabella's shamefully-discoloured face.

It was impossible for her to realize grief in her own bosom.

She walked the room in a nervous tremour, shedding a note of sympathy to one sister and to the other.

At last Arabella got fuller command of her voice.