She had at last fallen in love.

I would not venture to assert that she had fallen in very deep, that the "breakers of the boundless deep" had engulfed her.

Some of us make shipwreck in a teacup tempest, and when our serenity is restored--there is nothing calmer than a teacup after its storm--our experience serves, after a decent interval, as an agreeable fringe to our confidential conversation.
Anyhow, Fay had fallen in love.

I feel bound to add that for some time before that event happened life had become intolerably dull.

The advent to Rome of her distant connection, Michael Carstairs, had been at this juncture a source of delight to her.