You may have indulged too much in the dreams of imagination.

You may have neglected your duties as a pupil.

Lay your hand on your heart and ask it to reply." She spoke so calmly, so soothingly, so rationally, the fever of imagination subsided.

I saw the triumph of reason and principle in her own self-control,--for, when I was describing the scene, her mild eye flashed, and her pale cheek colored with an unwonted depth of hue.

She had to struggle with her own emotions, that she might subdue mine.
"May I ask him to pardon Richard Clyde, mother ?" "The act would become your gratitude, but I fear it would avail nothing.
If he has required submission of him, he will hardly accept yours as a substitute." "Must I ask him to forgive me?
Must I return ?" I hung breathlessly on her reply.
"Wait till morning, my daughter.