blushes, a strange, almost pitiful creature in his abject
confusion. A little smile flickered about the delicate corners of
her mouth, but she turned 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, too--a 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 discomfort--a curious sense of loss and gain
commingled.