I had loved my father tenderly in my heart.

When I come back I shall seek you here, where I have loved you so long.

" Such was, very faithfully, my own condition of mind during the interval which succeeded my departure from Paristhe only difference being that Longfellow's hero was rejected by the woman he loved, and sorrowing for that rejection; whilst I, neither rejected nor accepted, mourned another grief, and through the tears of that trouble, looked forward anxiously to my uncertain future.

I had lost everything in losing her I loved.

I know that I loved her ever; that I could never forget her; that although the first pangs were past, I yet must bear "All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!

Was I fancying myself a poet, only because I was an idle man, and had lost the woman I loved?

For I loved her still; worshipped her; raised altars to her in the dusky chambers of my memory.

In a word, I loved herloved her, I think, more dearly than before I lost her.

"Hortense," I said, "do you not know, that he who stood beside your father in his last hour, and he who so loved you years ago, are one and the same?

"Ah, you loved him, and he loved you, il mio tesorino?" Promotion had comehow strangely.

"Ah, you loved him, and he loved you, il mio tesorino?" Promotion had comehow strangely.

Madame de Bellaise sat back, and begged the others to speak English, saying that it was her mother tongue, and she loved the sound of it, but really trying to efface herself, while the eager conversation between the two young people went on about their homes.

You loved my son, and he loved youperhaps you would like to bid him farewell.

My father is still an active man, and I am not old enough to take my part in public affairs, even if I loved greatly either the Prince of Orange or King James.

No, but Naomi Darpent, yearning for sympathy, came to her side, caressed her on that summer night, and told her that Mr. Fellowes had gone to ask her of her father, and though she could never love again as she had once loved, she thought if her parents wished it, she could be happy with so good a man.

He had loved her sothe one soft side of his adamantine character.

For this was the tune that her mother had loved, and she was playing it to remind herself of her promise and to keep herself firm in her determination to accept the bargain, for her little brother Mirko's sake.

He loved a woman's face to look ciselée, he said.

Tristram, she knew, loved her stillroom maid's brown bread and butter.

She had so loved Tschaikovsky's music, and this piece especially.

He was going to be taken away from his father, his much loved Chérisette would not be near him, and he feared and hated strangers.

" Francis Markrute's face changed, as it always did with the mention and discussion of Mirkowhose presence in the world was an ever-rankling proof of his loved sister's disgrace.

Lady Ethelrida never meddled in other people's affairs, but she loved Tristram as a brother and she felt a little afraid.

Once she had admitted to herself that she loved her husband, her suffering was as deep as his, only that she was more practiced in the art of suppressing all emotion.

He did not look for continued opposition in that quarter, once he should have assured himself that Lady Ethelrida loved him.