There was feeling in him that was not in her.
She was aware of it as she might be aware of a gathering storm, though the brain received as yet no clear message.

She felt, struggling with that diffused kindness and young vanity, something like discomfort and fear.

So her mood was complex enough, unharmonized, parted between opposing currents.

She was a riddle to herself.
But Glenfernie walked in a great simplicity of faeryland or heaven.
She did not love Robin Greenlaw; she was not so young a lass, with a rose in her cheek for every one; she was come so far without mating because she had snow in her heart! The palace gleamed, the palace shone.

All the music of earth--of the world--poured through.