This was one of them.

Fortune had left her, sorrow had baptized her; the routine of labor and the loneliness of almost friendless city-life were before her.

Yet, as I looked upon her tranquil face, gradually regaining a cheerfulness which was often sprightly, as she became interested in the various matters we talked about and places we visited, I saw that eye and lip and every shifting lineament were made for love,--unconscious of their sweet office as yet, and meeting the cold aspect of Duty with the natural graces which were meant for the reward of nothing less than the Great Passion.
-- I never addressed one word of love to the schoolmistress in the course of these pleasant walks.

It seemed to me that we talked of everything but love on that particular morning.

There was, perhaps, a little more timidity and hesitancy on my part than I have commonly shown among our people at the boarding-house.