cation　of　making　this　novel　and　piquant　acquaintance：　besides；　I　was　for　a　while　troubled　with　a　haunting　fear　that　if　I　handled　the　flower　freely　its　bloom　would　fade—the　sweet　charm　of　freshness　would　leave　it。　I　did　not　then　know　that　it　was　no　transitory　blossom；　but　rather　the　radiant　resemblance　of　one；　cut　in　an　indestructible　gem。　Moreover；　I　wished　to　see　whether　you　would　seek　me　if　I　shunned　you—but　you　did　not；　you　kept　in　the　schoolroom　as　still　as　your　own　desk　and　easel；　if　by　chance　I　met　you；　you　passed　me　as　soon；　and　with　as　little　token　of　recognition；　as　was　consistent　with　respect。　Your　habitual　expression　in　those　days；　Jane；　was　a　thoughtful　look；　not　despondent；　for　you　were　not　sickly；　but　not　buoyant；　for　you　had　little　hope；　and　no　actual　pleasure。　I　wondered　what　you　thought　of　me；　or　if　you　ever　thought　of　me；　and　resolved　to　find　this　out。

“I　resumed　my　notice　of　you。　There　was　something　glad　in　your　glance；　and　genial　in　your　manner；　when　you　conversed：　I　saw　you　had　a　social　heart；　it　was　the　silent　schoolroom—it　was　the　tedium　of　your　life—that　made　you　mournful。　I　permitted　myself　the　delight　of　being　kind　to　you；　kindness　stirred　emotion　soon：　your　face　became　soft　in　expression；　your　tones　gentle；　I　liked　my　name　pronounced　by　your　lips　in　a　grateful　happy　accent。　I　used　to　enjoy　a　chance　meeting　with　you；　Jane；　at　this　time：　there　was　a　curious　hesitation　in　your　manner：　you　glanced　at　me　with　a　slight　trouble—a　hovering　doubt：　you