expectation formed, but towards whom my heart softened instinctively, and yearned with an importunate gratitude, which I entreated Reason betimes to check.

“Do not let me think of them too often, too much, too fondly,” I implored; “let me be content with a temperate draught of this living stream; let me not run athirst, and apply passionately to its welcome waters; let me not imagine in them a sweeter taste than earth’s fountains know! Oh! would to God I may be enabled to feel enough sustained by an occasional, amicable intercourse, rare, brief, unengrossing, and tranquil—quite tranquil!”

Still repeating this word, I turned to my pillow; and, still repeating it, I steeped that pillow with tears.