Book 3, Chapter 2: A Day of Love

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌⁠Meanwhile the beautiful Henrietta sat in her bower, her music neglected, her drawing thrown aside. Even her birds were forgotten, and her flowers untended. A soft tumult filled her frame: now rapt in reverie, she leaned her head upon her fair hand in charmed abstraction; now rising from her restless seat, she paced the chamber, and thought of his quick coming. What was this mighty revolution that