She does not wear her heart upon her sleeve, I imagine." A moment of irony came over me; that desire to say what one really does not believe (a feminine trait), and I replied: "Are both those articles necessary to any one?
A sleeve ?--well, one must be clothed.

But a heart ?--a cumbrous thing, as I take it." Belle Treherne turned, and looked me steadily in the eyes for an instant, as if she had suddenly awakened from abstraction, and slowly said, while she drew back slightly: "Dr.Marmion, I am only a girl, I know, and inexperienced, but I hoped most people of education and knowledge of life were free from that kind of cynicism to be read of in books." Then something in her thoughts seemed to chill her words and manner, and her father coming up a moment after, she took his arm, and walked away with a not very cordial bow to me.
The fact is, with a woman's quick intuition, she had read in my tone something suggestive of my recent experience with Mrs.Falchion.

Her fine womanliness awoke; the purity of her thoughts, rose in opposition to my flippancy and to me; and I knew that I had raised a prejudice not easy to destroy.
This was on a Friday afternoon.
On the Saturday evening following, the fancy-dress ball was to occur.
The accident to the machinery and our delay were almost forgotten in the preparations therefor.

I had little to do; there was only one sick man on board, and my hand could not cure his sickness.

How he fared, my uncomfortable mind, now bitterly alive to a sense of duty, almost hesitated to inquire.