He Is My First Olive: Let Me

How Am I To Dress Up In My Finery, And Go Off And Away To Smart Parties, After The Sorrow I Have Seen Today?

Every Mile Was Redolent Of Associations, Which She Would Not Have Missed For The World, But Each Of Which Made Her Cry Upon 'the Days That Are No More' With Ineffable Longing.

What Other People May Think Of The Rightness Or Wrongness Is Nothing In Comparison To My Own Deep Knowledge, My Innate Conviction That It Was Wrong.

Neither Loss Of Father, Nor Loss Of Mother, Dear As She Was To Mr Thornton, Could Have Poisoned The Remembrance Of The Weeks, The Days, The Hours, When A Walk Of Two Miles, Every Step Of Which Was Pleasant, As It Brought Him Nearer And Nearer To Her, Took Him To Her Sweet Presence - Every Step Of Which Was Rich, As Each Recurring Moment That Bore Him Away From Her Made Him Recal Some Fresh Grace In Her Demeanour, Or Pleasant Pungency In Her Character.

Oh Yes!' And Suddenly The Wintry Frost-bound Look Of Care Had Left Mr. Thornton's Face, As If Some Soft Summer Gale Had Blown All Anxiety Away From His Mind; And, Though His Mouth Was As Much Compressed As Before, His Eyes Smiled Out Benignly On His Questioner.