his first flush of wonder was past, he ceased to
mention--ceased even to think of it. Of course she must be beautiful. It
was her right; the natural complement of her other graces but it was to
him only what the mother's smile is to the infant, the sunlight to the
skylark, the mountain-breeze to the hunter--an inspiring element, on
which he fed unconsciously. Only when he doubted for a moment some
especially startling or fanciful assertion, did he become really aware
of the great loveliness of her who made it; and then his heart silenced
his judgment with the thought--Could any but true words come out of
those perfect lips?--any but royal thoughts take shape within that
queenly head?.... Poor fool! Yet was it not natural enough?

Then, gradually, as she passed the boy, poring over his book, in some
alcove of the Museum Gardens, she would invite him by a glance to join
the knot of loungers and questioners who dangled about her and her
father, and fancied themselves to be reproducing the days of the
Athenian sages amid the groves of another Academus. Sometimes, even, she
had beckoned him to her side as she sat in some retired arbour, attended
only by her father; and there some passing observation, earnest and
personal, however lofty and measured, made him aware, as it was intended
to do, that she had a deeper interest in him, a livelier sympathy for
him, than for the many; that he was in her eyes not merely a pupil to be
instructed, but a soul whom she desired to educate. And those delicious
gleams of sunlight grew more frequent and more protracted; for by each
she satisfied herself more and more that she had not mistaken either
his powers or his susceptibilities: and in each, whether in public or
private, Philammon seemed to bear himself more worthily. For over and
above the natural ease and dignity which accompanies physical beauty,
and the modesty, self-restraint, and deep earnestness which he had
acquired under the discipline of the Laura, his Greek character was
developing itself in all its quickness, subtlety, and versatility, until
he seemed to Hypatia some young Titan, by the side of the flippant,
hasty, and insincere talkers who made up her chosen circle.

But man can no more live upon Platonic love than on the more prolific
species of that common ailment; and for the first month Philammon would
have gone hungry to his couch full many a night, to lie awake from baser
causes than philosophic meditation, had it not