books, papers,
and all the new publications which reached me. I always thought they
appeared very glad to see me.

Being strangers in the place, they saw but little company, and it seemed
to be nothing more than my duty to call in now and then in a neighborly
way. I talked quite easily; for among books I felt at home. They talked
easily, too; for they (I say it in no ill-natured way) were women. They
began to consider my frequent calling as a matter of course, and always
smiled upon me when I entered. I felt that they congratulated themselves
upon finding me out. They had penetrated the ice, and found open sea
beyond. I speak of it in this way, because I afterwards overheard Ellen
joking her sister about discovering the Northwest Passage to my heart.

This was in the fall of the year, when the evenings were getting quite
long. They were fond of reading, but had not much time for it. I was
fond of reading, and had many long evenings at my disposal. It followed,
therefore, that I read aloud, while they worked. With the "Pink and
Blue" just opposite, I read evening after evening. At first I used to
look up frequently, to see how such and such a passage would strike her;
but one evening Ellen asked me, in a laughing, half-saucy sort of way,
why I didn't look at _her_ sometimes to see how _she_ liked things. This
made me color up; and Jane colored up, too. After that I kept my eyes on
my book; but I always knew when she stopped her work and raised her
head at the interesting parts, and always hoped she didn't see the red
flushes spreading over my face, and always wished, too, that she would
look away,--for, somehow, my voice would not go on smoothly.

Those red flushes were to myself most mysterious. Nevertheless, they
continued, and even appeared to be on the increase. At first, I felt
them only while reading; then, upon entering the room; and at last
they began to come before I got across the field. Still I felt no real
uneasiness, but, on the contrary, was glad I could be of so much use to
the family. Never before was the want of men-folks felt so little by a
family of women-folks. I did errands, split kindling, dug "tracks," (_i.
e._, paths in the snow,) and glued broken furniture.

I always thought of Jane as "Pink and Blue." Sometimes I thought from
her manner that she would a little rather I wouldn't come so often. I
thought she didn't look up at me so pleasantly as she used to at first,
and seemed a little stiff;