of love differ from
inspiration?

One morning Dexter was sent for by the principal of the seminary of the
town, to assist in the decoration of her school-room preparatory to the
examination and exhibition of her pupils.

While at work there, aided by Silas Swift, who was now his assistant in
business, and notable for his skill as a designer and painter and
painter of transparencies, and whatsoever in that line was desired for
public festivities, processions, illuminations, and general jubilation
of any character,--while at work in the great school-room, Mr. Dexter
was unusually silent.

This was no occasion for, there was no need of, much speaking or of
merriment. It was not expected of him. He was not dealing with, while he
worked for, others now, but he was dealt with constantly, to an extent
that confounded and embarrassed him. He did not make the demonstrations
people sometimes do in such a case, but was silent, and half sad.
Everything that passed before him he saw, it made an impression rapid
and deep on his mind. The pictures drawn and painted by the pupils, and
hung around the walls for exhibition, the pupils themselves, passing in
and out,--girls of all ages, ladies to look at, all of them,--suggested
anew the question, Why should his daughter be shut off from the
privileges of these? He felt ashamed when he asked. Yet the question
would be answered; and without palliation, self-excusing, or retort, he
meditated.

Finally he said to Silas Swift, who worked with him in silence broken
only by question and answer that referred merely to their business,--

"Look!"--and his eyes followed a young girl who had been hunting for
several minutes among the desks for a book.

The youth obeyed,--he looked, but seemed not to understand the
flag-maker as quickly or as clearly as was expected of him.

"Columby," said Dexter, with a wink and a nod, that to his mind
expressed everything.

"Oh, yes," said Silas, as if he understood.

His penetration was not put to further proof. The mere supposition of
his apprehension satisfied his employer, who could now go on without
embarrassment.

"She ought to come to school," said Dexter.

"Oh!" exclaimed Silas, with surprise sufficient to convince the father
that the young man had not attempted to practise a deceit.

"Yes," said Dexter, "she ought, she's old enough,"--as if that were all
he had been waiting for.

"I think so," answered Silas Swift, with a decision encour