CHAPTER XXVII 396
the schoolroom as still as your own desk and easel; if by chance I met you, you passed me as soon, and with as little token of recognition, as was consistent with respect. Your habitual expression in those days, Jane, was a thoughtful look; not despondent, for you were not sickly; but not buoyant, for you had little hope, and no actual pleasure. I wondered what you thought of me, or if you ever thought of me, and resolved to find this out.
" I resumed my notice of you. There was something glad in your glance, and genial in your manner, when you conversed: I saw you had a social heart; it was the silent schoolroom-- it was the tedium of your life-- that made you mournful. I permitted myself the delight of being kind to you; kindness stirred emotion soon: your face became soft in expression, your tones gentle; I liked my name pronounced by your lips in a grateful happy accent. I used to enjoy a chance meeting with you, Jane, at this time: there was a curious hesitation in your manner: you glanced at me with a slight trouble-- a hovering doubt: you did not know what my caprice might be-- whether I was going to play the master and be stern, or the friend and be benignant. I was now too fond of you often to simulate the first whim; and, when I stretched my hand out cordially, such bloom and light and bliss rose to your young, wistful features, I had much ado often to avoid straining you then and there to my heart."
" Don ' t talk any more of those days, sir," I interrupted, furtively dashing away some tears from my eyes; his language was torture to me; for I knew what I must do-- and do soon-- and all these reminiscences, and these revelations of his feelings only made my work more difficult.
" No, Jane," he returned: " what necessity is there to dwell on the Past, when the Present is so much surer-- the Future so much brighter?"
I shuddered to hear the infatuated assertion.
" You see now how the case stands-- do you not?" he continued. " After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love-- I have found you. You are my sympathy-- my better self-- my good angel. I am bound