but, as I had a majority in my favor, I
continued my visits. I always had one good look at her when I said
good-night; but it made the red come, so that I had to hurry out before
she saw. It seemed to me that her cheeks then looked pinker than ever,
and the two colors, pink and blue, seemed to mingle and float before my
eyes all the way home. "Pink and blue," "pink and blue." How those two
little words kept running in my head, and, I began to fear, in my heart
too!--for no sooner would I close my eyes at night than those delicate
pink cheeks and blue eyes would appear before me. They haunted my
dreams, and were all ready to greet me at waking.

I was completely puzzled. It reminded me of old times. Seemed just like
being in love again. Could it be possible that I was liable to a second
attack?

One night I took a new book and hurried across the field to the Woods',
for I never was easy till I saw "Pink and Blue" face to face; and
then,--why, then, I was not at all easy. I felt the red flushes coming
long before I reached the house. As soon as I entered the room, I felt
that she was missing. I must have looked blank; for Mrs. Wood began
to explain immediately, that Jane was not well, and had gone to
bed;--nothing serious; but she had thought it better for her not to
sit up. I remained and read as usual, but, as it seemed to me, to bare
walls. I had become so accustomed to reading with "Pink and Blue" just
opposite, to watching for the dropping of her work and the raising of
her eyes to my face, that I really seemed on this occasion to be reading
to no purpose whatever. I went home earlier than usual, very sober and
very full of thought. My mother noticed it, and inquired if they were
well at Mrs. Wood's. So I told her about Jane.

That night my eyes were fully opened. I was in love. Yes, the old
disease was upon me, and my last state was worse than my first,--just as
much so as Jane was superior to Eleanor. The discovery threw me into
the greatest distress. Hour after hour I walked the floor, in my own
chamber, trying to reason the love from my heart,--but in vain; and at
length, tossing myself on the bed, I almost cursed the hour in which I
first saw the Woods. I called myself fool, dolt, idiot, for thus running
my head a second time into the noose. It may seem strange, but the
thought that she might possibly care for me never once occurred to my
mind. Eleanor's words in the sleigh still rang in my ears: "I never
th