This was plainly written in his too expressive face, as, fancying it unseen, he let it tell the longing after beauty, peace, and happiness embodied for him in the innocent fair girl before him.
The conviction of this sad yet natural fact came to Mrs Jo with a pang, for she felt how utterly hopeless such a longing was; since light and darkness were not farther apart than snow-white Bess and sin-stained Dan.

No dream of such a thing disturbed the young girl, as her entire unconsciousness plainly showed.

But how long would it be before the eloquent eyes betrayed the truth?
And then what disappointment for Dan, what dismay for Bess, who was as cool and high and pure as her own marbles, and shunned all thought of love with maidenly reserve.
'How hard everything is made for my poor boy! How can I spoil his little dream, and take away the spirit of good he is beginning to love and long for?
When my own dear lads are safely settled I'll never try another, for these things are heart-breaking, and I can't manage any more,' thought Mrs Jo, as she put the lining into Teddy's coat-sleeve upside down, so perplexed and grieved was she at this new catastrophe.
The story was soon done, and as Bess shook back her hair, Dan asked as eagerly as a boy: 'Don't you like it ?' 'Yes, it's very pretty, and I see the meaning of it; but Undine was always my favourite.' 'Of course, that's like you--lilies and pearls and souls and pure water.

Sintram used to be mine; but I took a fancy to this when I was--ahem--rather down on my luck one time, and it did me good, it was so cheerful and sort of spiritual in its meaning, you know.' Bess opened her blue eyes in wonder at this fancy of Dan's for anything 'spiritual'; but she only nodded, saying: 'Some of the little songs are sweet and might be set to music.' Dan laughed; 'I used to sing the last one to a tune of my own sometimes at sunset: '"Listening to celestial lays, Bending thy unclouded gaze On the pure and living light, Thou art blest, Aslauga's Knight!" 'And I was,' he added, under his breath, as he glanced towards the sunshine dancing on the wall.
'This one suits you better now'; and glad to please him by her interest, Bess read in her soft voice: '"Healfast, healfast, ye hero wounds; O knight, be quickly strong! Beloved strife For fame and life, Oh, tarry not too long!"' 'I'm no hero, never can be, and "fame and life" can't do much for me.
Never mind, read me that paper, please.

This knock on the head has made a regular fool of me.' Dan's voice was gentle; but the light was gone out of his face now, and he moved restlessly as if the silken pillows were full of thorns.