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han her appearance; in her purple habit; with her Amazon’s cap of black velvet placed gracefully above the long curls that kissed her cheek and floated to her shoulders; can scarcely be imagined: and it was thus she would enter the rustic building; and glide through the dazzled ranks of the village children。 She generally came at the hour when Mr。 Rivers was engaged in giving his daily catechising lesson。 Keenly; I fear; did the eye of the visitress pierce the young pastor’s heart。 A sort of instinct seemed to warn him of her entrance; even when he did not see it; and the door; if she appeared at it; his cheek would glow; and his marble… seeming features; though they refused to relax; changed indescribably; and in their very quiescence became expressive of a repressed fervour; stronger than working muscle or darting glance could indicate。
Of course; she knew her power: indeed; he did not; because he could not; conceal it from her。 In spite of his Christian stoicism; when she went up and addressed him; and smiled gaily; encouragingly; even fondly in his face; his hand would tremble and his eye burn。 He seemed to say; with his sad and resolute look; if he did not say it with his lips; “I love you; and I know you prefer me。 It is not despair of success that keeps me dumb。 If I offered my heart; I believe you would accept it。 But that heart is already laid on a sacred altar: the fire is arranged round it。 It will soon be no more than a sacrifice consumed。”
And