But her respected parents, whose triumphant relief at the stranger's departure had emboldened them to await her return in their porch with bended bows of invective and lifted javelins of aggression, recoiled before the resistless helm of this cold-browed Minerva, who galloped contemptuously past them.
Nevertheless, she sat late that night at her desk.

The cold moon looked down upon her window, and lit up the empty porch where her silent guest had mutely watched her.

For a moment she regretted that he had recovered his reason, excusing herself on the practical ground that he would never have known his dependence, and he would have been better cared for by her.

She felt restless and uneasy.

This slight divergence from the practical groove in which her life had been set had disturbed her in many other things, and given her the first views of the narrowness of it.
Suddenly she heard a step in the porch.