By the light, her features seemed more pale than usual; and her slight and delicate form, with its gliding motion and noiseless step, had in it something almost ethereal and unearthly.
Evelyn turned and saw her, and her heart smote her.

Her mother, so wedded to the dear cottage--and had this gay stranger rendered that dear cottage less attractive,--she who had said she could live and die in its humble precincts?
Abruptly she left her new friend, hastened to her mother, and threw her arms fondly round her.
"You are pale; you have over-fatigued yourself.

Where have you been?
Why did you not take me with you ?" Lady Vargrave pressed Evelyn's hand affectionately.
"You care for me too much," said she.

"I am but a dull companion for you; I was so glad to see you happy with one better suited to your gay spirits.

What can we do when she leaves us ?" "Ah, I want no companion but my own, own mother.