or I felt almost sure that Warren Luce was in earnest,--that he was
deeply and truly in love with Mary Ellen. Not that he intended this at
first, but that her beauty conquered him. Most likely this was the first
of his knowing he had a heart, 'twas so small. Still, 'twas the best
thing he had, and appeared to hold considerable love for one of its
size.

And how was it with Mary Ellen? Ah, she was enough to puzzle a justice!
I was not long, though, in perceiving that this unenlightened maiden
felt instinctively that her personal appearance should be attended to a
little more carefully than when only David was to admire. Her hair was
always in nice order, and I observed that even in the morning she would
have some bit of muslin or lace-work peeping from beneath her short
sleeve. I hope there is no harm in saying that I had, even before this,
noticed the shapeliness of her arm. I think I was struck with it the
first morning, when she came across the entry.

And was she really a coquette, carrying herself steadily along between
two lovers, that she smiled just as pleasantly on David, giving him
never a cold word, even while the blushes kindled by the soft speeches
of Warren Luce still burned upon her cheeks?

I found myself getting confused. My new studies were very absorbing in
their nature, and extremely intricate. Three books to translate, and
never a dictionary!

After patient investigation, I settled down upon the conviction that
there was in the heart of our little country-girl one corner of which
David's constant goodness, and earnest, though unspoken love, had given
him the entire possession.

I thought thus, because I saw that in her own nature were truth and
goodness. And she was quick of perception. I was often struck by the
shrewdness of her remarks. I thought the more favorably of her, too,
that she was fond of pictures. Before they came to live in the other
part, she had taken a dozen lessons of an itinerant drawing-master. I
had often encountered her in my walks, trying to make a sketch of a tree
or a house. She always tucked it behind her, though, or into her pocket,
the minute I came in sight.

It was certainly true that she had not yielded to the fascinations of
the Doctor's boy so readily and so entirely as I had feared. "The girl
has some common sense," I thought, "some stability,--and likewise some
ideas of the eternal fitness of things." For I noticed, with pleasure,
one night in Emily's room, w