“Miss Elliot,” said he, speaking rather low, “you have done a good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish he could have such company oftener. It is bad for him, I know, to be shut up as he is; but what can we do? We cannot part.”

“No,” said Anne, “that I can easily believe to be impossible; but in time, perhaps⁠—we know what time does in every case of affliction, and you must remember, Captain Harville, that your friend may yet be called a young mourner⁠—only last summer, I understand.”

“Ay, true enough,” (with a deep sigh) “only June.”

“And not known to him, perhaps, so soon.”