Indeed I was so affected by his look that I forgot to watch any longer
for her coming, but kept my gaze fixed on his countenance, till I saw
by the change which rapidly took place in it that she had stepped out
of the great church door and was now standing before us, making the
sunshine more brilliant by her smiles, and the spring the sweeter for
her presence.

Then I came to myself and rushed forward with the rest of the lads.
Did he follow behind us? I do not think so, for the rosy lips which
had smiled upon us with so airy a welcome soon showed a discontented
curve not to be belied by the merry words that issued from them, and
when we would have escorted her across the fields to her father's
house, she made a mocking curtsy, and wandered away with the ugliest
old crone who mouths and mumbles in the meeting-house. Did she do this
to mock us or him? If to mock him he had best take care, for beauty
scorned is apt to grow dangerous. But perhaps it was to mock us? Well,
well, there would be nothing new in that; she is ever mocking us.

* * * * *

They say the Colonel passes her gate a dozen times a day, but never
goes in and never looks up. Is he indifferent then? I cannot think so.
Perhaps he fears her caprices and disapproves of her coquetry. If that
is so, she shall be my wife before he wakens to the knowledge that her
coquetry hides a passionate and loving heart.

Colonel Schuyler is a dark man. He has eyes which pierce you, and a
smile which, if it could be understood, might perhaps be less
fascinating than it is. If she has noticed his watching her, the
little heart that flutters in her breast must have beaten faster by
many a throb. For he is the one great man within twenty miles, and so
handsome and above us all that I do not know of a woman but Juliet
whose voice does not sink a tone lower whenever she speaks of him. But
he is a proud man, and seems to take no notice of any one. Indeed he
scarcely appears to live in our world. Will he come down from his high
estate at the beck of this village beauty? Many say not, but I say
yes; with those eyes of his he cannot help it.

* * * * *

Juliet is more capricious than ever. Lemuel Phillips for one is tired
of it, and imitating Orrin Day, bade her a good-even to-night which I
am sure he does not intend to follow with a blithe good-morrow.

I might do the same if her pleading eyes would let me. But sh