it was well enough; nay, more, it was actually fascinating,
and she would not have had him otherwise. These characteristics--for her
sake we will not say weaknesses--constantly suggested to her how much
she could be to him,--she who was so strong in all ways,--in health, in
hope, and in enthusiasm. And for him it was joy enough to look upon her
full bright cheek, to see her compact little figure before him; but to
touch her dimpled shoulder, to feel one tress of her hair against his
face, was ecstasy; and her voice,--the tenderest trill of the wood-dove
was not half so delicious! But who shall define the mystery of love?
They were lovers; and when we have said that, is there anything more to
be said? Their love had not, however, up to the time of which we write,
found utterance in words. Hobert was the son of a poor man, and Jenny
was prospectively rich, and the faces of her parents were set as flints
against the poor young man. But Jenny had said in her heart more than
once that she would marry him; and if the old folks had known this, they
might as well have held their peace. Hobert did not dream that she had
talked thus to her heart, and, with his constitutional timidity, he
feared she would never say anything of the kind. Then, too, his
conscientiousness stood in his way. Should he presume to take her to his
poor house, even if she would come? No, no, he must not think of it; he
must work and wait, and defer hope. This hour so opportune was also most
inopportune,--such sorrow at home! He would not speak to-night,--O no,
not to-night! And yet he could bear up against everything else, if she
only cared for him! Such were his resolves, as she passed to and fro
before him, trifling away the time with pretence of adjusting this thing
and that; but at last expedients failed, and reaching for her cloak,
which hung almost above him as he sat against the wall, she said it was
time to go. As frostwork disappears in the sunshine, so his brave
resolutions vanished when her arm reached across his shoulder, and the
ribbon that tied her beads fluttered against his cheek. With a motion
quite involuntary, he snatched her hand. "No, Jenny, not yet,--not quite
yet!" he said.

"And why not?" demanded Jenny; for could any woman, however innocent, or
rustic, be without her little coquetries? And she added, in a tone that
contradicted her words, "I am sure I should not have come if I had known
you were coming!"

"I dare say not," replied