So I took my bedroom candle and went.
When I had reached my own room I locked the door lest by any chance I should be disturbed; although that did not seem likely.

I lit four candles and made quite an illumination in the great, dim room.

Then I took the letter from where it had lain all day over my heart, and I set it on the table in the candle-light.

I got into a loose gown and slippers with a kind of painful, yet sweet deliberation.

Now that the moment had come for my joy I dallied with it.
My first love-letter! I realized all at once that Theobald's fond, boyish epistles had no real, man's love in them.