'When you were sitting by her,' said I, 'you seemed to be no less her guardian angel than mine; and you seem so now, Agnes.'
'A poor angel,' she returned, 'but faithful.'
The clear tone of her voice, going straight to my heart, made it natural to me to say:
'The cheerfulness that belongs to you, Agnes (and to no one else that ever I have seen), is so restored, I have observed today, that I have begun to hope you are happier at home?'
'I am happier in myself,' she said; 'I am quite cheerful and light-hearted.'
I glanced at the serene face looking upward, and thought it was the stars that made it seem so noble.
'There has been no change at home,' said Agnes, after a few moments.
'No fresh reference,' said I, 'to - I wouldn't distress you, Agnes, but I cannot help asking - to what we spoke of, when we parted last?'