Explore "Adela Cathcart. Volume III" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the next evening of our assembly came, I could see on Adela's face a look of subdued expectation, and I knew now to what to attribute it: Harry was going to read. There was a restlessness in her eyelids -- they were always rising, and falling as suddenly. But when the time drew near, they grew more still; only her colour went and came a little. By the time we were all seated, she was as quiet as death. Harry pulled out a manuscript.
"Have you any objection to a ballad-story? " he asked of the company generally.