s, and indignantly shut the stable door _after_ the steed is
stolen.

No. That something which was so sure to happen had happened; you might
have seen it in their eyes, have heard it in the very tone of their
voices, though they still talked in a very commonplace way, and still
called each other "Miss Williams" and "Mr. Roy." In fact, their whole
demeanor to one another was characterized by the grave and even formal
decorum which was natural to very reserved people, just trembling on the
verge of that discovery which will unlock the heart of each to the other,
and annihilate reserve forever between the two whom Heaven has designed
and meant to become one; a completed existence. If by any mischance this
does not come about, each may lead a very creditable and not unhappy
life; but it will be a locked-up life, one to which no third person is
ever likely to find the key.

Whether such natures are to envied or pitied is more than I can say; but
at least they are more to be respected than the people who wear their
hearts upon their sleeves for daws to peck at, and very often are all the
prouder the more they are pecked at, and the more elegantly they bleed;
which was not likely to be the case with either of these young folks,
young as they were.

They were young, and youth is always interesting and even comely; but
beyond that there was nothing remarkable about either. He was Scotch;
she English, or rather Welsh. She had the clear blue Welsh eye, the
funny _retrousee_ Welsh nose; but with the prettiest little mouth
underneath it--firm, close, and sweet; full of sensitiveness, but a
sensitiveness that was controlled and guided by that best possession to
either man or woman, a good strong will. No one could doubt that the
young governess had, what was a very useful thing to a governess, "a will
of her own;" but not a domineering or obnoxious will, which indeed is
seldom will at all, but merely obstinacy.

For the rest, Miss Williams was a little woman, or gave the impression of
being so, from her slight figure and delicate hands and feet. I doubt if
any one would have called her pretty, until he or she had learned to love
her. For there are two distinct kinds of love, one in which the eye
instructs the heart, and the other in which the heart informs and guides
the eye. There have been men who, seeing an unknown beautiful face, have
felt sure it implied the most beautiful soul in the world, pursued it,
worshiped it,