It was her accustomed attitude, and Uncle Edward read on with growing satisfaction, finding that he was upon a passage which gave Democracy its due.

He turned a page, then another, glanced from the book, and discovered that his niece was not attending.
"Jacqueline!" Jacqueline withdrew her eyes from the fading gold, and, turning in her chair, faced her uncle with a faint smile.

She loved him dearly, and he loved her, and they had not many secrets from each other.

Now she looked at him with a wavering light upon her face, shook her head as if in answer to some dim question of her own, and broke into silent weeping.
"Bless my soul!" cried Uncle Edward, and started up in alarm.

He had a contemptuous horror of women's tears; but Jacqueline was different, Jacqueline was not like other women.