"You had better lie still, my dear Miss Elinor," said the doctor kindly, offering her a glass of some restorative.
Miss Agnes entered the room and advanced anxiously to the sofa.
"My poor child!" exclaimed Miss Wyllys. "What is it, doctor?—illness?" she added anxiously.
The doctor shook his head. "She heard the news too suddenly," he said.
Mr. Wyllys now followed his daughter. Elinor turned her eyes towards the door as he entered; a cry burst from her lips—she saw Hazlehurst!
Yes, Hazlehurst standing in the doorway, looking pale and distressed, but living, breathing, moving!
In another second Elinor had started to her feet, sprung towards him, and thrown herself in his arms—heedless of the family, heedless of friends and servants about her, forgetting in that one sudden revulsion of feeling, the whole world but Harry.
{"revulsion" = a sudden change of feeling}
Hazlehurst seemed quite forgetful himself of the everyday {sic} rules of society, and the merely friendly position in which they had stood at parting, but a week before; his whole expression and manner now betrayed an interest in Elinor too strong to be disguised, and which could be explained in one way only.
All this was the work of a moment; the various degrees of amazement, produced by the sudden appearance of Harry, on some individuals of the group of spectators, the surprise of others at the strong emotions betrayed by the young couple had not subsided, when an exclamation from Hazlehurst himself again fixed their attention entirely on Elinor.