He wrote to Sir Charles to say that his daughter was too ill to write; but that no explanation was possible, and no interview could be allowed.
Sir Charles, who, after writing, had conceived the most sanguine hopes, was now as wretched as Bella.

Only, now that he was refused a hearing, he had wounded pride to support him a little under wounded love.
Admiral Bruce, fearing for his daughter's health, and even for her life--she pined so visibly--now ordered her to divide her day into several occupations, and exact divisions of time--an hour for this, an hour for that; an hour by the clock--and here he showed practical wisdom.

Try it, ye that are very unhappy, and tell me the result.
As a part of this excellent system, she had to walk round the square from eleven to twelve A.M., but never alone; he was not going to have Sir Charles surprising her into an interview.

He always went with her, and, as he was too stiff to walk briskly, he sat down, and she had to walk in sight.

He took a stout stick with him--for Sir Charles.