"It is not only that I love you so much, I want to see your country--your people--your mother--" she paused reverently.

"Oh, how I shall love your mother!" I had not been in love many times--my experience did not compare with Terry's.

But such as I had was so different from this that I was perplexed, and full of mixed feelings: partly a growing sense of common ground between us, a pleasant rested calm feeling, which I had imagined could only be attained in one way; and partly a bewildered resentment because what I found was not what I had looked for.
It was their confounded psychology! Here they were with this profound highly developed system of education so bred into them that even if they were not teachers by profession they all had a general proficiency in it--it was second nature to them.
And no child, stormily demanding a cookie "between meals," was ever more subtly diverted into an interest in house-building than was I when I found an apparently imperative demand had disappeared without my noticing it.
And all the time those tender mother eyes, those keen scientific eyes, noting every condition and circumstance, and learning how to "take time by the forelock" and avoid discussion before occasion arose.
I was amazed at the results.

I found that much, very much, of what I had honestly supposed to be a physiological necessity was a psychological necessity--or so believed.

I found, after my ideas of what was essential had changed, that my feelings changed also.