You recall, in connection with this, her indisposition to talk of
him on the first evening of your return. It seems--you scarce know
why--that these are the tokens of something very like a leaning of the
heart. It does occur to you that she too may have her little casket of
loves; and you try one day very adroitly to take a look into this
casket.
----You will learn later in life that the heart of a modest, gentle
girl is a very hard matter for even a brother to probe; it is at once
the most tender and the most unapproachable of all fastnesses. It admits
feeling by armies, with great trains of artillery,--but not a single
scout. It is as calm and pure as polar snows; but deep underneath, where
no footsteps have gone, and where no eye can reach but one, lies the
warm and the throbbing earth.
Make what you will of the slight, quivering blushes, and of the half
broken expressions,--more you cannot get. The love that a
delicate-minded girl will tell is a short-sighted and outside love; but
the love that she cherishes without voice or token is a love that will
mould her secret sympathies, and her deepest, fondest yearnings, either
to a quiet world of joy, or to a world of placid sufferance.
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