Elizabeth Sandham, A cup of sweets, that can never cloy…
“ Whenever she was alone, either in the house or garden, a moment later than she liked to be, her heart immediately began to beat, and she flew like lightning to seek protection; her hands clasped, her elbows squeezed close to her sides, and her head hung down—and in this way, every object she glanced her eyes upon appeared to her fancy something extraordinary: had she but summoned resolution to take a second look, she must have laughed at her own folly. ”
