"I'm sorry," he said. "I wanted to advise you about books to read.
You must let me help you to find what you are seeking."

"Ah," said Corydon, "if you only will!"

"I will do anything I can," he said. "I am ashamed of not having
helped you before."

They had risen and started towards the house. "Can't you come
to-morrow, and we can talk it over," he said.

"But I thought you were going to work," she objected.

"I can spare another day," he replied. "A rest won't hurt me, I
know. And it's been a real pleasure to talk to you this afternoon."

So they settled it; and Thyrsis saw them off in the boat, and then
he went back to the little cabin.

On the steps he stood still. "Corydon!" he muttered. "Little
Corydon!"

That was always the way he thought of her; not only because he had
known her when she was a child, but because this expressed his
conception of her--she was so gentle and peaceable and meek. She was
now eighteen, and he was only twenty, but he felt towards her as a
grandfather might. But now had come this new revelation, that
astonished him. She had been deeply stirred by his work--she had
loved it; and this was no affectation, it was out of her inmost
heart. And she was not really contented at all--she had quite a