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Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. I can’t help it. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. She looked around her. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love.
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