Lady Rosamond is listlessly leaning against a dressing-table, with one hand partially shading her beautiful face.

Quickly turning round to look at some object beyond gives a full view, which reveals a tender sadness resting in the depths of those powerful dark eyes.

Lady Rosamond is in a deep study--one which is not of an agreeable nature--one which she is not most likely to reveal.

Alternate shades of displeasure, rebellion and defiance, flit across her brow, which remain, in quiet and apparently full possession, until reluctantly driven forth by the final ascendancy of reason, at the cost of many conflicting feelings of emotion and deep despondency.
Again Lady Rosamond reads the letter very slowly, as though to find, in each word and sentence, some other meaning which might allay her present distracting thoughts.

Vainly did the reader search for relief.