features warm with a faint flush of recognition. How many dreams I based
on that slight fabric! Of course I discovered her name; and of course I
learned that her father was very rich; but what was that to me? With
what pride did I gaze at his name in huge gilt letters on a great
warehouse near us, and what wonderful little gothic cottages did I build
on the strength of the "and Son" that would shortly be added to it! The
long nights with my cousin became less wearisome. I could hear the dull
creaking of the letter-press, and see him sit poring over his writing,
quite patiently. When the organ-grinder stopped on the corner and played
"Make me no gaudy chaplet," I did not long to rush into the streets, for
I had _her_ to think about. When the clock struck eleven, and my cousin,
with his peculiar "phew!" commenced another letter, I looked on quite
calmly, and began the construction of another cottage. Of course there
were rainy days, and Thursdays that were ages to me; and there were
Christmas holidays, and long, hot vacations, that she did not come; but
September brought back the radiant face, and I worshiped on.

Gradually I noticed a change in her dress. She wore little lace collars,
and bright ribbons I had not seen before; and sometimes she carried a
little bouquet of violets, with a white rosebud in the center. As she
grew older, I had many rivals. Gallant youths, brave in broadcloth and
beavers, followed by dozens the _Picciola_ I had watched so tenderly.
How proudly I passed them by! and how I sneered at the thought of their
understanding _her_!

I saw her form grow fuller and expand into a more queenly beauty. I saw
her eyes sparkle with a diviner light, and her bosom swell with new and
strange emotions. I watched her until she became a woman, and gloried in
her matchless loveliness.

At last the end came. One morning, the brown calico frock was changed
for an India silk, and the little school bonnet, with its blue veil, for
a new one, covered with artificials. She was accompanied by an elderly
lady, and looked nervous and excited. I was troubled at the tremulous,
uncertain expression of her face. The next day I read her name in the
list of graduates.

It does generally rain at picnics; but this time it didn't. When shall I
ever forget that picnic? I stole a holiday to attend it. It was late
when I arrived: the dinner was over, and I had one prepared expressly
for me. Would you believe it? my fair attendant w