Mr.Dexter passed into their private parlor, adjoining the bedroom, and remained there until his wife had finished dressing.
"Shall we go down ?" he inquired, as she came in looking so beautiful in his eyes that the very sight of her surpassing loveliness gave him pain.

The Fiend was in his heart.
"Not now," she replied "I am still fatigued with the day's travel, and had rather not see company at present." She glanced from the window.
"What a sublimity there is in the ocean!" she said, with an unusual degree of interest in her manner, when speaking to her husband.

"I can never become so familiar with its grandeur and vastness, as to look upon its face without emotion.

You remember Byron's magnificent apostrophe ?-- "'Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll.'" And she repeated several of the stanzas from "Childe Harold," with an effect that stirred her husband's feelings more profoundly than they had ever been stirred by nature and poetry before.
"I have read and heard that splendid passage many times, but never with the meaning and power which your voice has lent to the poet's words," said Dexter, gazing with admiration upon his wife.
He sat down beside her, and took her hand in his.

Her eyes wandered to his face, and lingered there as if she were searching the lineaments for a sign of something that her heart could take hold upon and cling to.