really loved any man, you, so perhaps you don't know
what it is to be afraid of your own eyes, because you feel that
every time they rest on that thing you love, your poor heart runs
and looks out of window.

I seldom look at Gabriel now,--I dare not. But there he sat opposite
me, poring over his book. Jane was bent over her sewing. I forgot
her, and I forgot my work too; it slipped from my fingers and fell
into my lap. Suddenly he raised his head,--it seemed as if all the
blood in my body rushed to my face; he had caught me all unguarded;
what he might not know was laid bare before him. With a dull, wide
gaze he stared at me, then bent over his book again; he had not seen
me; he had merely looked up to get a better view, as it were, of
something he had in mind.

Then I, too, bent my head low, for hot tears stood in my silly eyes,
and, to my surprise, I felt a soft hand tuck my hair behind my ears,
caressingly. I looked up and saw a world of pity in Jane Norton's
face. When presently Gabriel left the room to fetch another volume,
I said:

"Jane, he must never know it."

"My child," she answered, speaking as softly as I had done, "there
is no fear that he should learn it from _me_."

"From me, then?" asked I; "is it so plain?"

"You are as pale as the table," she said. "Take care of yourself,
Em,--don't be unhappy, all's well."

Just then Gabriel came in, and I left soon after. You see what an
enemy I am to myself.

Good night, dearest; I am your
EMILIA.

LETTER XXV.

GRAYSMILL, January 29th.

It is so easy to imagine the bright side of things when one is too
far away to see the truth. Silly Constance, cruel Constance, what is
the use of sending me such words of false hope? It does not follow,
because you love me best of all the world, that another should do
likewise. No, no; you know nothing at all about it, and yet in spite
of all reason, I catch at every straw you send drifting towards me.
Once and for all, of course he loves me, but it stands just so. He
loves me too well in one way to love me in another. If he loved me
less, he might love me more. I have said all this to Jane. She
declares that the only reason why he is not in love with me is that
an obstacle stands in the way which has stood in the way all along,
and which he has never dreamed of surmounting. She means my accursed
money. I tol