She had not before fully known that she loved him. She knew he was the
most delightful companion she had ever met, and that there was an
exhilaration about his presence which almost intoxicated her and made
life an ecstasy, yet she did not know it was love. It needed but the
thought that she was about to lose him to make her know her malady,
and meet it face to face.

Upon the evening when Mary learned all this, she went into her chamber
very early and closed the door. No one interrupted her until Jane
went in to robe her for the night, and to retire. She then found that
Mary had robed herself and was lying in bed with her head covered,
apparently asleep. Jane quietly prepared to retire, and lay down in
her own bed. The girls usually shared one couch, but during Mary's
ill-temper she had forced Jane to sleep alone.

After a short silence Jane heard a sob from the other bed, then
another, and another.

"Mary, are you weeping?" she asked.

"Yes."

"What is the matter, dear?"

"Nothing," with a sigh.

"Do you wish me to come to your bed?"

"Yes, I do." So Jane went over and lay beside Mary, who gently put her