"I think if any one were to say to me, 'You must leave Crown Anstey,' I should die." All the music on earth seemed embodied in those few words.
"I should die," she repeated, "just as a flower dies when it is torn from the soil it has taken deep root." "Why do you speak of such things ?" I asked.

"No one thinks of your going; this is your home." "In my happiest hours the fear lies heaviest upon me," she replied.

"No one has ever spoken of my going, that is true; but I have common sense, and common sense tells me if certain events happen I must go." "What events do you mean ?" I asked, all unconsciously.
She sighed deeply.
"If you were to be married, Sir Edgar--Cousin Edgar, I like to say best--then I must go." "I do not see the necessity." "Ah! you do not understand; women are all jealous.

I have grown so accustomed to perform a hundred little services for you, they make the pleasure and sunshine of my life.

To be able to do some little thing to help you is the highest earthly joy that I can ever know.