she used no lens, being content to glide forever on her smooth stream of
delight. When the sun blinds us, we cannot see the warning black lurking
in the far horizon. Without doubt the girl's soul and sympathies were
receiving their proper food. Life was full for her, not because she was
occupied, --for a busy life does not always prove a full one, --but because
she entered thoroughly into the lives of others, struggled with their
struggles, triumphed in their triumphs, and was beginning to see in
everything, good or bad, its necessity of existence. Under ordinary
circumstances one cannot see much misery without experiencing a world of
disillusion and futile rebellion of spirit; but Ruth was not living just at
that time under ordinary circumstances.

Something of the nature of electricity seemed to envelop her, that made her
pulses bound, her lips quick to smile, and her eyes shine like twin
dreamstars. She seemed to be moving to some rapturous music unheard save
only by herself. At night, alone with her heart, she dared hardly name to
herself the meaning of it all, _ a puritanic modesty withheld her. Yet all
the sweet humility of which she was possessed could not banish from her
memory the lingering clasp of a hand, the warm light that fell from eyes
that glanced at her. For the present, these were grace sufficient for her
daily need. Given the perfume, what need to name the flower?

Her family, without understanding it, noted the difference in their
different ways. Mrs. Levice saw with a thrill of delight that she was
growing more softly beautiful. Her father, holding his hands a few inches
from her shoulders, said, one morning, with a drolly puzzled look, "I am
afraid to touch you; sparks might fly."

Arnold surprised her standing in the gloaming by a window, her hands
clasped over her head, a smile parting her lips, her eyes haunting in the