kissed. What a moment it was! A faintness stole
over me; I felt as if I was going to die some exquisite death; I laid
myself back away from him--I was not able to speak. There was no need
for it; my thoughts and his thoughts were one--he knew that I was
quite overcome; he saw that he must leave me to recover myself alone. I
pointed to the shrubbery gate. We took one long last look at each other
for that day; the trees hid him; I was left by myself.

CHAPTER XX. EUNICE'S DIARY.

How long a time passed before my composure came back to me, I cannot
remember now. It seemed as if I was waiting through some interval of my
life that was a mystery to myself. I was content to wait, and feel the
light evening air in the garden wafting happiness over me. And all this
had come from a kiss! I can call the time to mind when I used to wonder
why people made such a fuss about kissing.

I had been indebted to Maria for my first taste of Paradise. I was
recalled by Maria to the world that I had been accustomed to live in;
the world that was beginning to fade away in my memory already. She had
been sent to the garden in search of me; and she had a word of advice
to offer, after noticing my face when I stepped out of the shadow of the
tree: "Try to look more like yourself, miss, before you let them see you
at the tea-table."

Papa and Miss Jillgall were sitting together talking, when I opened the
door. They left off when they saw me; and I supposed, quite correctly
as it turned out, that I had been one of the subjects in their course
of conversation. My poor father seemed to be sadly anxious and out of
sorts. Miss Jillgall, if I had been in the humor to enjoy it, would have
been more amusing than ever. One of her funny little eyes persisted in
winking at me; and her heavy foot had something to say to my foot, under
the table, which meant a great deal perhaps, but which only succeeded in
hurting me.

My father left us; and Miss Jillgall explained herself.

"I know, dearest Euneece, that we have only been acquainted for a day or
two and that I ought not perhaps to have expected you to confide in
me so soon. Can I trust you not to betray me if I set an example of
confidence? Ah, I see I can trust you! And, my dear, I do so enjoy
telling secrets to a friend. Hush! Your father, your excellent father,
has been talking to me about young Mr. Dunboyne."

She provokingly stopped there. I entreated her to go on. She invited
me to sit o