They began, and ended--mere dreams.

Soon dawned the bare, hard truth, that my character was too feeble and womanish to be likely to win any woman's reverence or love.
Or, even had this been possible, one sickly as I was, stricken with hereditary disease, ought never to seek to perpetuate it by marriage.
I therefore put from me, at once and for ever, every feeling of that kind; and during my whole life--I thank God!--have never faltered in my resolution.

Friendship was given me for love--duty for happiness.

So best, and I was satisfied.
This conviction, and the struggle succeeding it--for, though brief, it was but natural that it should have been a hard struggle--was the only secret that I had kept from John.

It had happened some months now, and was quite over and gone, so that I could smile at his fun, and shake at him my "bewitching" black locks, calling him a foolish boy.