or it,
and now the first thing I have written in it was _that_! It will
not be a diary. It shall be _your_ book. I shall keep it sacred to
You and write to You in it. How strange it will be if the day ever
comes when I shall show it to You! If it should, you would not
laugh at it, for of course the day couldn't come unless you
understood. I cannot think it will ever come--that day! But
maybe---- No, I mustn't let myself hope too much that it will,
because if I got to hoping too much, and you didn't like me, it
would hurt too much. People who expect nothing are never
disappointed--I must keep that in mind. Yet _every_ girl has a
_right_ to hope for her own man to come for her some time, hasn't
she? It's not easy to discipline the wanting to hope--since
_yesterday_!

"I think I must always have thought a great deal about you without
knowing it. We really know so little what we think: our minds are
going on all the time and we hardly notice them. It is like a
queer sort of factory--the owner only looks in once in a while and
most of the time hasn't any idea what sort of goods his spindles
are turning out.

"I saw You yesterday! It seems to me the strangest thing in the
world. I've seen you by chance, probably two or three times a
month nearly all my life, though you so seldom come here to call.
And this time wasn't different from dozens of other times--you
were just standing on the corner by the Richfield, waiting for a
car. The only possible difference is that you had been out of town
for several months--Cora said so this morning--and how ridiculous
it seems now, didn't even know it! I hadn't noticed it--not with
the top part of my mind, but perhaps the deep part that does the
real thinking had noticed it and had mourned your absence and was
so glad to see you again that it made the top part suddenly see
the wonderful truth!"

Lindley set down the ledger to relight his cigar. It struck him
that Laura had been writing "very odd Stuff," but interesting; and
certainly it was not a story. Vaguely he recalled Marie
Bashkirtseff: hadn't she done something like this? He resumed the
reading:

"You turned and spoke to me in that lovely, cordial, absent-minded
way of yours--though I'd never thought (with the top part) what a
lovely way it was; and for a moment I only noticed how nice you
looked in a light gray suit, because I'd only seen you in black
for so long, while you'd been in mourning for your brother."

Rich