A gentle little woman in black, with large eyes and brown hair, seldom speaking, save when spoken to, and then in a voice not the least resembling Miss Glorvina's--a soft young mother tending an infant and beckoning the Major up with a smile to look at him--a rosy-cheeked lass coming singing into the room in Russell Square or hanging on George Osborne's arm, happy and loving--there was but this image that filled our honest Major's mind, by day and by night, and reigned over it always. 
A gentle little woman in black, quietly-spoken - a soft young mother tending an infant and smiling up at the Major - a rosy-cheeked lass hanging lovingly on George Osborne's arm - this image filled our honest Major's mind, and reigned over it always.
