But, from the beginning of her wedded life, she felt the manner of her husband like the weight of a hand on her bosom, repressing her heart's outgushing impulses.
It was on the fifth evening of their marriage, about the early twilight hour, and Madeline, alone, almost for the first time since morning, sat awaiting the return of her husband.

Full of pleasant thoughts was her mind, and warm with love her heart.

A few hours of separation from Edward had made her impatient to meet him again.
When, at length, she heard him enter, she sprang to meet him, and, with an exclamation of delight, threw her arms about his neck.
There was a cold dignity in the way this act was received by Edward Leslie, that chilled the feelings of his wife.

Quickly disengaging her arms, she assumed a more guarded exterior; yet, trying all the while, to be cheerful in manner.

We say "trying;" for a shadow had fallen on her young heart--and, to seem cheerful was from an effort.
They sat down, side by side, in the pensive twilight close to the windows, through which came fragrant airs; and Madeline laid her hand upon that of her husband.