“My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. “He is a sad blunderer. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. In spite of all this, he grew daily better and stronger, and his spirits revived. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. "He knows he had to take it.
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