And I threw the rosebud at her nose, a rebuff which made her tearful
and pettish with me the whole afternoon, and for which she has not
pardoned me even now, though she is married and has three children.

The two or three hours which my aunt spent morning and evening
together at church being too short for my admiration of the entrancing
portrait, I resolved at last to keep the miniature in my pocket, and
went about all day hiding myself from people just as if I had
committed some crime. I fancied that the portrait from the depth of
its prison of cloth could see all my actions, and I arrived at such a
ridiculous extremity, that if I wanted to scratch myself, pull up my
sock, or do anything else not in keeping with the idealism of my
chaste love, I first drew out the miniature, put it in a safe place,
and then considered myself free to do whatever I wanted. In fact,
since I had accomplished the theft, there was no limit to my vagaries.
At night I hid it under the pillow, and slept in an attitude of
defense; the portrait remained near the wall, I outside, and I awoke
a thousand times, fearing somebody would come to bereave me of my
treasure. At last I drew it from beneath the pillow and slipped it
between my nightshirt and left breast, on which the following day
could be seen the imprint of the chasing of the frame.

The contact of the dear miniature gave me delicious dreams. The lady
of the portrait, not in effigy, but in her natural size and
proportions, alive, graceful, affable, beautiful, would come towards
me to conduct me to her palace by a rapid and flying train. With sweet
authority she would make me sit on a stool at her feet, and would pass
her beautifully molded hand over my head, caressing my brow, my eyes,
and loose curls. I read to her out of a big missal, or played the
lute, and she deigned to smile, thanking me for the pleasure which my