handed the picture to Miss
Wing: "_Thine for ever, Max._" Miss Wing made no comment; perhaps she
supposed that the girl had not seen, perhaps--in any case she was
silent.

Of course, the new light flooded the school gossip immediately. But
there never came any more; every new girl was free to work her own will
on Miss Wing's romance. Was "Max" dead? Had they parted because of any
act on the woman's part? Surely he could not have been false, to receive
that daily oblation of flowers. It was more likely that she thus
expressed an imperishable regret. Youth, ever fanciful, played with all
manner of dainty and plaintive variations on the theme. Its very mystery
was its poignant charm; since each tender young soul created a new
romance and a new appeal. Elusive and pathetic, it hovered on the edge
of these young lives, like the perfume of a flower. And its influence
was the more potent that it asked for nothing. It is not too much to say
that the spectacle of that gentle and reticent faithfulness was the
strongest element in the school atmosphere. Certainly, because of it,
Miss Wing had greater power over her scholars. She was a woman of
ability and gentle force; by nature a little aloof, a little precise,
able to feel deeply, but not able to express her sympathies or her pain.
Without her mysterious sorrow, she would have seemed to young girls a
thought too admirable; they would have been chilled by her virtues; but
as it was, their perception that she had lived deeply, that she had
suffered, that she had been loved and had loved eternally, opened their
hearts. They would have admired her, now they adored her. By degrees,
and insensibly to herself, she became the confessor of her little
world. After they left school, her girls brought her their perplexities
of the heart. Wives came to her with cruel dilemmas which they shrank
from revealing to their own mothers--perhaps because the mothers could
not be trusted to plead for the erring husband so well; for a woman who
loves complains, not to be justified herself, but to hear her lover's
misconduct excused and his love proved against her doubts. Before they
left school, the girls confessed their faults and failings and strivings
of conscience with the same eagerness with which they asked counsel in
their innocent romances of friendship or the sorrows of trigonometry,
and they accepted any penance directed, not only with patience, but a
kind of exaltation natural to youth, whic