no doubt endured one of those
constrictions with which the desolate living, regretting the dead, are,
at times, so sorely oppressed. Many tears rolled down, which she wiped
away, again and again, with her handkerchief; some distressed sobs
escaped her, and then, the paroxysm over, she sat quiet as before. I put
my hand gently on her shoulder; no need further to prepare her, for
she was neither hysterical nor liable to fainting-fits; a sudden push,
indeed, might have startled her, but the contact of my quiet touch
merely woke attention as I wished; and, though she turned quickly, yet
so lightning-swift is thought--in some minds especially--I believe the
wonder of what--the consciousness of who it was that thus stole unawares
on her solitude, had passed through her brain, and flashed into her
heart, even before she had effected that hasty movement; at least,
Amazement had hardly opened her eyes and raised them to mine, ere
Recognition informed their irids with most speaking brightness. Nervous
surprise had hardly discomposed her features ere a sentiment of most
vivid joy shone clear and warm on her whole countenance. I had hardly
time to observe that she was wasted and pale, ere called to feel a
responsive inward pleasure by the sense of most full and exquisite
pleasure glowing in the animated flush, and shining in the expansive
light, now diffused over my pupil's face. It was the summer sun flashing
out after the heavy summer shower; and what fertilizes more rapidly than
that beam, burning almost like fire in its ardour?

I hate boldness--that boldness which is of the brassy brow and insensate
nerves; but I love the courage of the strong heart, the fervour of the
generous blood; I loved with passion the light of Frances Evans' clear
hazel eye when it did not fear to look straight into mine; I loved the
tones with which she uttered the words--

"Mon maitre! mon maitre!"

I loved the movement with which she confided her hand to my hand; I
loved her as she stood there, penniless and parentless; for a sensualist
charmless, for me a treasure--my best object of sympathy on earth,
thinking such thoughts as I thought, feeling such feelings as I felt; my
ideal of the shrine in which to seal my stores of love; personification
of discretion and forethought, of diligence and perseverance, of
self-denial and self-control--those guardians, those trusty keepers of
the gift I longed to confer on her--the gift of all my affections;
m