FANNY was almost stunned. The smallness of the house and thinness of the walls brought everything so close to her, that, added to the fatigue of her journey, and all her recent agitation, she hardly knew how to bear it.
Within the room all was tranquil enough, for Susan having disappeared with the others, there were soon only her father and herself remaining; and he, taking out a newspaper, the accustomary loan of a neighbour, applied himself to studying it, without seeming to recollect her existence.
The solitary candle was held between himself and the paper, without any reference to her possible convenience; but she had nothing to do, and was glad to have the light screened from her aching head, as she sat in bewildered, broken, sorrowful contemplation.
Précis
Fanny returned home a young woman to the house and family she had left as a child eight years before, but instead of being the centre of attention she was mortifyingly neglected. Nonetheless, she was soon glad of the peace and quiet in which to nurse her aching head, and her disappointment. (52 / 60 words)