nt on horseback, performed my errand, dined with the
family, and returned at dark to the inn. After supper, it occurred to me
to go to the Woods' and surprise them. I wanted to see just what they
were doing, and just how they looked,--just how _she_ looked. But a
moment's reflection convinced me that I had much better not. But be
quiet I could not, and I strolled out of the back-door of the inn, and
so into a wide field behind. There was a moon, but swift dark clouds
were flying across it, causing alternate light and shadow. I strayed
on through field and meadow, hardly knowing whither I went, yet with a
half-consciousness that I should find myself at the end by my mother's
grave. I felt, therefore, no surprise when I saw that I was approaching,
through a field at the back of my garden, the old elm-tree. As I drew
near the grave, the moon, appearing from behind a cloud, showed me the
form of a woman leaning against the tree. She wore no bonnet,--nothing
but a shawl thrown over her head. Her face was turned from me, but I
knew those features, even in the indistinct moonlight, and my heart gave
a sudden leap, as I pressed eagerly forward. She turned in affright,
half screamed, half ran, then, recognizing me, remained still as a
statue.

"Mr. Allen, you here? I thought you were gone," she said, at last.

"Jane, you here?" said I. "You ought not; the night is damp; you will
get sick."

Nevertheless, I went on talking, told what had detained me, described
my journey and visit, and inquired after her family, as if I had been a
month absent. I never talked so easily before; for I knew she was not
looking in my face, and forgot how my voice might betray me. I spoke of
my mother, of how much she was to me, of my utter loneliness, and even
of my plans for the future.

"But I am keeping you too long," I exclaimed, at last; "this evening air
is bad; you must go home."

I walked along with her, up through the garden, and along the road
towards her house. I did not offer my arm, for I dared not trust myself
so near. The evening wind was cool, and I took off my hat to let it blow
upon my forehead, for my head was hot and my brain in a whirl. We came
to a stop at the gate, beneath an apple-tree, then in full bloom. I
think now that my mind at that time was not--exactly sound. The severe
mental discipline which I had forced upon myself, the long striving to
subdue the strongest feelings of a man's heart, together with my real
hear