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"She is not sad and sorrowful, then?" she said, presently.
"Oh no; she is too brave."
"What beautiful hair she has!" said this worn-faced woman with the sad
eyes. "Ah, many a time I have said to myself that when I take her to my
heart I will feel the beautiful soft hair; I will stroke it; her head
will lie on my bosom, and I will gather courage from her eyes: when she
laughs my heart will rejoice! I have lived many years in solitude--in
secret, with many apprehensions; perhaps I have grown timid and fearful;
once I was not so. But I have been troubling myself with fears; I have
said, 'Ah, if she looks coldly on me, if she turns away from me, then my
heart will break!'"
"I do not think you have much to fear," said he, regarding the
beautiful, sad face.
"I have tried to catch the sound of her voice," she continued, absently,
and her eyes were filled with tears, "but I could not do that. But I
have watched her, and wondered. She does not seem proud and cold."
"She will not be proud or cold to you," he said, "when she is kindness
and gentleness to all the world.


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