I had quite stopped fretting over John's absence. Indeed, though of course
I wished to see him, I dreaded it; I was so happy, just as I was, and I
had so many things to think about, so many dreams to dream and plans to
make.

I liked John when he taught the little prairie school and praised me to my
wondering relatives. All through my college course I was proud of his
regard, because every one respected him; and last June I promised to marry
him.

We said then that our love wasn't just a "co-ed. flirtation," because he
was a grown man and not a student any more. But--but--but last June I
wasn't--

Why, I've but just come to possess the gift that I wouldn't exchange for
the proudest throne on earth, and I mean to make it my throne in the great
world. I haven't yet had time to think things out or realise my fairy
fortune; but John and I mustn't do anything foolish. Wise love can wait.

He came while I was at school.

When I found him here, he actually didn't know me.

He stared as if I were a stranger whose face drew, yet puzzled him. Then
he was attracted by my beauty, then for a moment dismayed, and then--why,
he was really so much in love that I--I--he gazed at me as if I were not
quite real; with reverence. His eyes mirrored my power; the wonder of the
new Me, the glory and the radiance of me shone in them. He worships me
and--well, of course nobody could help liking that.