She must
pass that way; her feet would crush them if she failed to see
them. Then he slipped back into his garden, half exultant, half
repentant. From a safe retreat he saw her pass by and stoop to
lift his flowers. Thereafter he put some in the same place every
day.
When Alice Reade saw the flowers she knew at once who had put them
there, and divined that they were for her. She lifted them
tenderly in much surprise and pleasure. She had heard all about
Jasper Dale and his shyness; but before she had heard about him
she had seen him in church and liked him. She thought his face
and his dark blue eyes beautiful; she even liked the long brown
hair that Carlisle people laughed at. That he was quite different
from other people she had understood at once, but she thought the
difference in his favour. Perhaps her sensitive nature divined
and responded to the beauty in his. At least, in her eyes Jasper
Dale was never a ridiculous figure.
When she heard the story of the west gable, which most people
disbelieved, she believed it, although she did not understand it.
It invested the shy man with interest and romance. She felt that
she would have liked, out of no impertinent curiosity, to solve
the mystery; she believed that it contained the key to his
character.
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