of winter noons over the vanishing sun. Matey was the prisoner gazing at
light of a barred window and measuring the strength of the bars. She
looked unhappy, but looked unbeaten more. Her look at him fed the school
on thoughts of what love really is, when it is not fished out of books
and poetry. For though she was pale, starved and pale, they could see
she was never the one to be sighing; and as for him, he looked ground
dower all to edge. However much they puzzled over things, she made them
feel they were sure, as to her, that she drove straight and meant blood,
the life or death of it: all her own, if need be, and confidence in the
captain she had chosen. She could have been imagined saying, There is a
storm, but I am ready to embark with you this minute.

That sign of courage in real danger ennobled her among girls. The name
Browny was put aside for a respectful Aminta. Big and bright events to
come out in the world were hinted, from the love of such a couple. The
boys were not ashamed to speak the very word love. How he does love that
girl! Well, and how she loves him! She did, but the boys had to be
seeing her look at Matey if they were to put the girl on some balanced
equality with a fellow she was compelled to love. It seemed to them that
he gave, and that she was a creature carried to him, like driftwood along
the current of the flood, given, in spite of herself. When they saw
those eyes of hers they were impressed with an idea of her as a voluntary
giver too; pretty well the half to the bargain; and it confused their
notion of feminine inferiority. They resolved to think her an
exceptional girl, which, in truth, they could easily do, for none
but an exceptional girl could win Matey to love her.

Since nothing appeared likely to happen at the school, they speculated
upon what would occur out in the world, and were assisted to conjecture,
by a rumour, telling of Aminta Farrell's aunt as a resident at Dover.