and　walked　swiftly　away　down　the　lane。
  Jasper　looked　after　her　with　a　new；　painful　sense　of　loss　and　loveliness。　　It　had　been　agony　to　feel　her　conscious　eyes　upon　him；　but　he　realized　now　that　there　had　been　a　strange　sweetness　in　it；　too。　　It　was　still　greater　pain　to　watch　her　going　from　him。
  He　thought　she　must　be　the　new　music　teacher　but　he　did　not　even　know　her　name。　　She　had　been　dressed　in　blue；　tooa　pale；　dainty　blue；　but　that　was　of　course；　he　had　known　she　must　wear　it；　and　he　was　sure　her　name　must　be　Alice。　　When；　later　on；　he　discovered　that　it　was；　he　felt　no　surprise。
  He　carried　some　mayflowers　up　to　the　west　gable　and　put　them　under　the　picture。　　But　the　charm　had　gone　out　of　the　tribute；　and　looking　at　the　picture；　he　thought　how　scant　was　the　justice　it　did　her。　　Her　face　was　so　much　sweeter；　her　eyes　so　much　softer；　her　hair　so　much　more　lustrous。　　The　soul　of　his　love　had　gone　from　the　room　and　from　the　picture　and　from　his　dreams。　　When　he　tried　to　think　of　the　Alice　he　loved　he　saw；　not　the　shadowy　spirit　occupant　of　the　west　gable；　but　the　young　girl　who　had　stood　under　the　pine；　beautiful　with　the　beauty　of　moonlight；　of　starshine　on　still　water；　of　white；　wind…swayed　flowers　growing　in　silent；　shadowy　places。　　He　did　not　then　realize　what　this　meant：　had　he　realized　it　he　would　have　suffered　bitterly；　as　it　was　he　felt　only　a　vague　discomforta　curious　sense　of　loss　and　gain　commingled。
  He　saw　her　again　that　afternoon　on　her　way　home。　　She　did　not　pause　by　the　garden　but　walked　swiftly　past。　　Thereafter；　every　day　for　a　week　he　watched　unseen　to　see　her　pass　his　home。　　Once　a　little　child　was　with　her；　clinging　to　her　hand。　　No　child　had　ever　before　had　any　part　in　the　shy　man's　dream　life。　　But　that　night　in　the　twilight　the　vision　of　the　rocking…chair　was　a　girl　in　a　blue　print　dress；　with　a　little；　golden…haired　shape　at　her　kneea　shape　that　lisped　and　prattled　and　called　her　〃mother；〃　and　both　of　them　were　his。
  It　was　the　next　day　that　he　failed　for　the　first　time　to　put　flowers　in　the　west　gable。　　Instead；　he　cut　a　loose　handful　of　daffodils　and；　looking　furtively　about　him　as　if　committing　a　crime；　he　laid　them　across　the　footpath　under　the　pine。　　She　must　pass　that　way；　her　feet　would　crush　them　if　she　failed　to　see　them。　　Then　he　slipped　back　into　his　garden；　half　exultant；　half　repentant。　　From　a　safe　retreat　he　saw　her　pass　by　and　stoop　to　lift　his　flowers。　　Thereafter　he　put　some　in　the　same　place　every　day。
  When　Alice　Reade　saw　the　flowers　she　knew　at　once　who　had　put　them　there；　and　divined　that　they　were　for　her。　　She　lifted　them　tenderly　in　much　surprise　and　pleasure。　　She　had　heard　all　about　Jasper　Dale　and　his　shyness；　but　before　she　had　heard　about　him　she　had　seen　him　in　church　and　liked　him。　　She　thought　his　face　and　his　dark　blue　eyes　beautiful；　she　even　liked　the　long　brown　hair　that　Carlisle　people　laughed　at。　　That　he　was　quite　different　from　other　people　she　had　understood　at　once；　but　she　thought　the　difference　in　his　favour。　　Perhaps　her　sensitive　nature　divined　and　responded　to　the　beauty　in　his。　　At　least；　in　her　eyes　Jasper　Dale　was　never　a　ridiculous　figure。
  When　she　heard　the　story　of　the　west　gable；　which　most　people　disbelieved；　she　believed　it；　although　she　did　not　understand　it。　　It　invested　the　shy　man　with　interest　and　romance。　　She　felt　that　she　would　have　liked；　out　of　no　impertinent　curiosity；　to　solve　the　mystery；　she　believed　that　it　contained　the　key　to　his　character。
  Thereafter；　every　day　she　found　flowers　under　the　pine　tree；　she　wished　to　see　Jasper　to　thank　him；　unaware　that　he　watched　her　daily　from　the　screen　of　shrubbery　in　his　garden；　but　it　was　some　time　before　she　found　the　opportunity。　　One　evening　she　passed　when　he；　not　expecting　her；　was　leaning　against　his　garden　fence　with　a　book　in　his　hand。　　She　stopped　under　the　pine。
  〃Mr。　Dale；〃　she　said　softly；　〃I　want　to　thank　you　for　your　flowers。〃
  Jasper；　startled；　wished　that　he　might　sink　into　the　ground。　　His　anguish　of　embarrassment　made　her　smile　a　little。　　He　could　not　speak；　so　she　went　on　gently。
  〃It　has　been　so　good　of　you。　　They　have　given　me　so　much　pleasure　I　wish　you　could　know　how　much。〃
  〃It　was　nothingnothing；〃　stammered　Jasper。　　His　book　had　fallen　on　the　ground　at　her　feet；　and　she　picked　it　up　and　held　it　out　to　him。
  〃So　you　like　Ruskin；〃　she　said。　　〃I　do；　too。　　But　I　haven't　read　this。〃
  〃If　youwould　careto　read　ityou　may　have　it；〃　Jasper　contrived　to　say。
  She　carried　the　book　away　with　her。　　He　did　not　again　hide　when　she　passed；　and　when　she　brought　the　book　back　they　talked　a　little　about　it　over　the　fence。　　He　lent　her　others；　and　got　some　from　her　in　return；　they　fell　into　the　habit　of　discussing　them。　　Jasper　did　not　find　it　hard　to　talk　to　her　now；　it　seemed　as　if　he　were　talking　to　his　dream　Alice；　and　it　came　strangely　natural　to　him。　　He　did　not　talk　volubly；　but　Alice　thought　what　he　did　say　was　worth　while。　　His　words　lingered　in　her　memory　and　made　music。　　She　always　found　his　flowers　under　the　pine；　and　she　always　wore　some　of　them；　but　she　did　not　know　if　he　noticed　this　or　not。
  One　evening　Jasper　walked　shyly　with　her　from　his　gate　up　the　pine　hill。　　After　that　he　always　walked　that　far　with　her。　　She　would　have　missed　him　much　if　he　had　failed　to　do　so；　yet　it　did　not　occur　to　her　that　she　was　learning　to　love　him。　　She　would　have　laughed　with　girlish　scorn　at　the　idea。　　She　liked　him　very　much；　she　thought　his　nature　beautiful　in　its　simplicity　and　purity；　in　spite　of　his　shyness　she　felt　more　delightfully　at　home　in　his　society　than　in　that　of　any　other　person　she　had　ever　met。　　He　was　one　of　those　rare　souls　whose　friendship　is　at　once　a　pleasure　and　a　benediction；　showering　light　from　their　own　crystal　clearness　into　all　the　dark　corners　in　the　souls　of　others；　until；　for　the　time　being　at　least；　they　reflected　his　own　nobility。　　But　she　never　thought　of　love。　　Like　other　girls　she　had　her　dreams　of　a　possible　Prince　Charming；　young　and　handsome　and　debonair。　　It　never　occurred　to　her　that　he　might　be　found　in　the　shy；　dreamy　recluse　of　Golden　Milestone。
  In　August　came　a　day　of　gold　and　blue。　　Alice　Reade；　coming　through　the　trees；　with　the　wind　blowing　her　little　dark　love…　locks　tricksily　about　under　her　wide　blue　hat；　found　a　fragrant　heap　of　mignonette　under　the　pine。　　She　lifted　it　and　buried　her　face　in　it；　drinking　in　the　wholesome；　modest　perfume。
  She　had　hoped　Jasper　would　be　in　his　garden；　since　she　wished　to　ask　him　for　a　book　she　greatly　desired　to　read。　　But　she　saw　him　sitting　on　the　rustic　seat　at　the　further　side。　　His　back　was　towards　her；　and　he　was　partially　screened　by　a　copse　of　lilacs。
  Alice；　blushing　slightly；　unlatched　the　garden　gate；　and　went　down　the　path。　　She　had　never　been　in　the　garden　before；　and　she　found　her　heart　beating　in　a　strange　fashion。
  He　did　not　hear　her　footsteps；　and　she　was　close　behind　him　when　she　heard　his　voice；　and　realized　that　he　was　talking　to　himself；　in　a　low；　dreamy　tone。　　As　the　meaning　of　his　words　dawned　on　her　consciousness　she　started　and　grew　crimson。　　She　could　not　move　or　speak；　as　one　in　a　dream　she　stood　and　listened　to　the　shy　man's　reverie；　guiltless　of　any　thought　of　eavesdropping。
  〃How　much　I　love　you；　Alice；〃　Jasper　Dale　was　saying；　unafraid；　with　no　shyness　in　voice　or　manner。　　〃I　wonder　what　you　would　say　if　you　knew。　　You　would　laugh　at　mesweet　as　you　are；　you　would　laugh　in　mockery。　　I　can　never　tell　you。　　I　can　only　dream　of　telling　you。　　In　my　dream　you　are　standing　here　by　me；　dear。　　I　can　see　you　very　plainly；　my　sweet　lady；　so　tall　and　gracious；　with　your　dark　hair　and　your　maiden　eyes。　　I　can　dream　that　I　tell　you　my　love；　thatmaddest；　sweetest　dream　of　allthat　you　love　me　in　return。　　Everything　is　possible　in　dreams；　you　know；　dear。　　My　dreams　are　all　I　have；　so　I　go　far　in　them；　even　to　dreaming　that　you　are　my　wife。　　I　dream　how　I　shall　fix　up　my　dull　old　house　for　you。　　One　room　will　need　nothing　moreit　is　your　room；　dear；　and　has　been　ready　for　you　a　long　timelong　before　that　day　I　saw　you　under　the　pine。　　Your　books　and　your　chair　and　your　picture　are　there；　dearonly　the　picture　is　not　half　lovely　enough。　　But　the　other　rooms　of　the　house　must　be　made　to　bloom　out　freshly　for　you。　　What　a　delight　it　is　thus　to　dream　of　what　I　would　do　for　you！　　Then　I　would　bring　you　home；　dear；　and　lead　you　through　my　garden　and　into　my　house　as　its　mistress。　　I　would　see　you　standing　beside　me　in　the　old　mirror　at　the　end　of　the　halla　bride；　in　your　pale　blue　dress；　with　a　blush　on　your　face。　　I　would　lead　you　through　all　the　rooms　made　ready　for　your　coming；　and　then　to　your　own。　　I　would　see　you　sitting　in　your　own　chair　and　all　my　dreams　would　find　rich　fulfilment　in　that　royal　moment。　　Oh；　Alice；　we　would　have　a　beautiful　life　together！　　It's　sweet　to　make　believe　about　it。　　You　will　sing　to　me　in　the　twilight；　and　we　will　gather　early　flowers　together　in　the　spring　days。　　When　I　come　home　from　work；　tired；　you　will　put　your　arms　about　me　and　lay　your　head　on　my　shoulder。　　I　will　stroke　itsothat　bonny；　glossy　head　of　yours。　　Alice；　my　Aliceall　mine　in　my　dream　never　to　be　mine　in　real　lifehow　I　love　you！〃
  The　Alice　behind　him　could　be