It was this
sweetness that gained upon me: at length her face was almost a part of
my consciousness. I suppose my condition was what people would call
being in love with her; but I never thought of that; I only thought of
her. Nor did I ever dream of saying a word to her on the subject. I
wished nothing other than as it was. To think about her all day, so
gently that it never disturbed Euclid or Livy; to see her at night,
and get near her now and then, sitting on the same form with her as I
explained something to her on the slate or in her book; to hear her
voice, and look into her tender eyes, was all that I desired. It never
occurred to me that things could not go on so; that a change must
come; that as life cannot linger in the bud, but is compelled by the
sunshine and air into the flower, so life would go on and on, and
things would change, and the time blossom into something else, and my
love find itself set out-of-doors in the midst of strange plants and a
new order of things.
When school was over, I walked home with her--not alone, for Turkey
was always on the other side. I had not a suspicion that Turkey's
admiration of Elsie could ever come into collision with mine. We
joined in praising her, but my admiration ever found more words than
Turkey's, and I thought my love to her was greater than his.
We seldom went into her grandmother's cottage, for she did not make us
welcome.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257