Through my half-shut lids I perceived the door opened.

After a pause of about a second, the skirt of a white muslin dress appeared--then a pretty foot stole a little farther--and at last the slight and graceful figure of Emily Bingham advanced noiselessly into the room.

Fear had rendered her deadly pale; but the effect of her rich brown hair, braided plainly on either side of her cheek, suited so well the character of her features, I thought her far handsomer than ever.
She came forward towards the table, and I now could perceive that she had something in her hand resembling a letter.

This she placed near my hand -- so near as almost to touch it.

She leaned over me--I felt her breath upon my brow, but never moved.