She loved to listen to his devotional rhapsodies, hardly knowing sometimes whether she were in the body, or out of the body, while he lifted her upon the wings of his passion-kindled rhetoric.

The time came when she had learned to listen for his step, when her eyes glistened at meeting him, when the words he uttered were treasured as from something more than a common mortal, and the book he had touched was like a saintly relic.

It never suggested itself to her for an instant that this was anything more than such a friendship as Mercy might have cultivated with Great-Heart.

She gave her confidence simply because she was very young and innocent.

The green tendrils of the growing vine must wind round something.
The seasons had been changing their scenery while the events we have told were occurring, and the loveliest days of autumn were now shining.
To those who know the "Indian summer" of our Northern States, it is needless to describe the influence it exerts on the senses and the soul.