She recalled that day of the typhoon and the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. “This is a charming place, and I have enjoyed the rest. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. No, this was imbecile. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Hill,” she said graciously. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it.
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