"How I need you!"

"Yes, I think you do--I am sure you do; and it makes me so happy."

"Ah," he said, "now I know why Grizel loves me." And perhaps he did
know now. She loved to think that she was more to him than the new
book, but was not always sure of it; and sometimes this saddened her,
and again she decided that it was right and fitting. She would hasten
to him to say that this saddened her. She would go just as impulsively
to say that she thought it right.

Her discoveries about herself were many.

"What is it to-day?" he would say, smiling fondly at her. "I see it is
something dreadful by your face."

"It is something that struck me suddenly when I was thinking of you,
and I don't know whether to be glad or sorry."

"Then be glad, you child."

"It is this: I used to think a good deal of myself; the people here
thought me haughty; they said I had a proud walk."

"You have it still," he assured her; the vitality in her as she moved
was ever a delicious thing to him to look upon.

"Yes, I feel I have," she admitted, "but that is only because I am
yours; and it used to be because I was nobody's!"