He knew the steady self-command which she had been used to exert in the miseries of her married life, and judged that her long endurance must have weakened her physical powers no little before she was so far conquered by emotion.

He consoled himself, however, with the idea that her sufferings must be now nearly at an end, and that she was so young still that she could only need rest and happiness to recover.

He said this to himself, and yet meantime he watched her uneasily, and did not feel at all so sure of her recovery as he tried to persuade himself he did.
There had been a long silence; for, after Mrs.Costello had told her story, there was enough to occupy the thoughts of all, and after a while each feared to break upon the other's reverie.

And as it happened, the meditations of the two elder people had turned in almost the same direction, though they were guided by a different knowledge of circumstances.

Mrs.Costello knew that to be true which Mr.Strafford only vaguely feared; she was thoroughly aware of the precarious hold she had on life, and how each fresh shock, whether of joy or sorrow, hastened the end.