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it was. I was vexed with you for getting out of my sight.
'Impatiently I waited for evening, when I might summon you to my
presence. An unusual- to me- a perfectly new character I suspected was
yours: I desired to search it deeper and know it better. You entered
the room with a look and air at once shy and independent: you were
quaintly dressed- much as you are now. I made you talk: ere long I
found you full of strange contrasts. Your garb and manner were
restricted by rule; your air was often diffident, and altogether
that of one refined by nature, but absolutely unused to society, and a
good deal afraid of making herself disadvantageously conspicuous by
some solecism or blunder; yet when addressed, you lifted a keen, a
daring, and a glowing eye to your interlocutor's face: there was
penetration and power in each glance you gave; when plied by close
questions, you found ready and round answers. Very soon you seemed
to get used to me: I believe you felt the existence of sympathy
between you and your grim and cross master, Jane; for it was
astonishing to see how quickly a certain pleasant ease tranquillised
your manner: snarl as I would, you showed no surprise, fear,
annoyance, or displeasure at my moroseness; you watched me, and now
and then smiled at me with a simple yet sagacious grace I cannot
describe. I was at once content and stimulated with what I saw: I
liked what I had seen, and wished to see more. Yet, for a long time, I
treated you distantly, and sought your company rarely. I was an
intellectual epicure, and wished to prolong the gratification of
making this novel and piquant acquaintance: besides, I was for a while
troubled with a haunting fear that if I handled the flower freely
its bloom would fade- the sweet charm of freshness would leave it. I
did not then know that it was no transitory blossom, but rather the
radiant resemblance of one, cut in an indestructible gem. Moreover,
I wished to see whether you would seek me if I shunned you- but you
did not; you kept in 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