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and walked swiftly away down the lane。
Jasper looked after her with a new； painful sense of loss and loveliness。 It had been agony to feel her conscious eyes upon him； but he realized now that there had been a strange sweetness in it； too。 It was still greater pain to watch her going from him。
He thought she must be the new music teacher but he did not even know her name。 She had been dressed in blue； tooa pale； dainty blue； but that was of course； he had known she must wear it； and he was sure her name must be Alice。 When； later on； he discovered that it was； he felt no surprise。
He carried some mayflowers up to the west gable and put them under the picture。 But the charm had gone out of the tribute； and looking at the picture； he thought how scant was the justice it did her。 Her face was so much sweeter； her eyes so much softer； her hair so much more lustrous。 The soul of his love had gone from the room and from the picture and from his dreams。 When he tried to think of the Alice he loved he saw； not the shadowy spirit occupant of the west gable； but the young girl who had stood under the pine； beautiful with the beauty of moonlight； of starshine on still water； of white； wind…swayed flowers growing in silent； shadowy places。 He did not then realize what this meant： had he realized it he would have suffered bitterly； as it was he felt only a vague discomforta curious sense of loss and gain commingled。
He saw her again that afternoon on her way home。 She did not pause by the garden but walked swiftly past。 Thereafter； every day for a week he watched unseen to see her pass his home。 Once a little child was with her； clinging to her hand。 No child had ever before had any part in the shy man's dream life。 But that night in the twilight the vision of the rocking…chair was a girl in a blue print dress； with a little； golden…haired shape at her kneea shape that lisped and prattled and called her 〃mother；〃 and both of them were his。
It was the next day that he failed for the first time to put flowers in the west gable。 Instead； he cut a loose handful of daffodils and； looking furtively about him as if committing a crime； he laid them across the footpath under the pine。 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。
Thereafter； every day she found flowers under the pine tree； she wished to see Jasper to thank him； unaware that he watched her daily from the screen of shrubbery in his garden； but it was some time before she found the opportunity。 One evening she passed when he； not expecting her； was leaning against his garden fence with a book in his hand。 She stopped under the pine。
〃Mr。 Dale；〃 she said softly； 〃I want to thank you for your flowers。〃
Jasper； startled； wished that he might sink into the ground。 His anguish of embarrassment made her smile a little。 He could not speak； so she went on gently。
〃It has been so good of you。 They have given me so much pleasure I wish you could know how much。〃
〃It was nothingnothing；〃 stammered Jasper。 His book had fallen on the ground at her feet； and she picked it up and held it out to him。
〃So you like Ruskin；〃 she said。 〃I do； too。 But I haven't read this。〃
〃If youwould careto read ityou may have it；〃 Jasper contrived to say。
She carried the book away with her。 He did not again hide when she passed； and when she brought the book back they talked a little about it over the fence。 He lent her others； and got some from her in return； they fell into the habit of discussing them。 Jasper did not find it hard to talk to her now； it seemed as if he were talking to his dream Alice； and it came strangely natural to him。 He did not talk volubly； but Alice thought what he did say was worth while。 His words lingered in her memory and made music。 She always found his flowers under the pine； and she always wore some of them； but she did not know if he noticed this or not。
One evening Jasper walked shyly with her from his gate up the pine hill。 After that he always walked that far with her。 She would have missed him much if he had failed to do so； yet it did not occur to her that she was learning to love him。 She would have laughed with girlish scorn at the idea。 She liked him very much； she thought his nature beautiful in its simplicity and purity； in spite of his shyness she felt more delightfully at home in his society than in that of any other person she had ever met。 He was one of those rare souls whose friendship is at once a pleasure and a benediction； showering light from their own crystal clearness into all the dark corners in the souls of others； until； for the time being at least； they reflected his own nobility。 But she never thought of love。 Like other girls she had her dreams of a possible Prince Charming； young and handsome and debonair。 It never occurred to her that he might be found in the shy； dreamy recluse of Golden Milestone。
In August came a day of gold and blue。 Alice Reade； coming through the trees； with the wind blowing her little dark love… locks tricksily about under her wide blue hat； found a fragrant heap of mignonette under the pine。 She lifted it and buried her face in it； drinking in the wholesome； modest perfume。
She had hoped Jasper would be in his garden； since she wished to ask him for a book she greatly desired to read。 But she saw him sitting on the rustic seat at the further side。 His back was towards her； and he was partially screened by a copse of lilacs。
Alice； blushing slightly； unlatched the garden gate； and went down the path。 She had never been in the garden before； and she found her heart beating in a strange fashion。
He did not hear her footsteps； and she was close behind him when she heard his voice； and realized that he was talking to himself； in a low； dreamy tone。 As the meaning of his words dawned on her consciousness she started and grew crimson。 She could not move or speak； as one in a dream she stood and listened to the shy man's reverie； guiltless of any thought of eavesdropping。
〃How much I love you； Alice；〃 Jasper Dale was saying； unafraid； with no shyness in voice or manner。 〃I wonder what you would say if you knew。 You would laugh at mesweet as you are； you would laugh in mockery。 I can never tell you。 I can only dream of telling you。 In my dream you are standing here by me； dear。 I can see you very plainly； my sweet lady； so tall and gracious； with your dark hair and your maiden eyes。 I can dream that I tell you my love； thatmaddest； sweetest dream of allthat you love me in return。 Everything is possible in dreams； you know； dear。 My dreams are all I have； so I go far in them； even to dreaming that you are my wife。 I dream how I shall fix up my dull old house for you。 One room will need nothing moreit is your room； dear； and has been ready for you a long timelong before that day I saw you under the pine。 Your books and your chair and your picture are there； dearonly the picture is not half lovely enough。 But the other rooms of the house must be made to bloom out freshly for you。 What a delight it is thus to dream of what I would do for you！ Then I would bring you home； dear； and lead you through my garden and into my house as its mistress。 I would see you standing beside me in the old mirror at the end of the halla bride； in your pale blue dress； with a blush on your face。 I would lead you through all the rooms made ready for your coming； and then to your own。 I would see you sitting in your own chair and all my dreams would find rich fulfilment in that royal moment。 Oh； Alice； we would have a beautiful life together！ It's sweet to make believe about it。 You will sing to me in the twilight； and we will gather early flowers together in the spring days。 When I come home from work； tired； you will put your arms about me and lay your head on my shoulder。 I will stroke itsothat bonny； glossy head of yours。 Alice； my Aliceall mine in my dream never to be mine in real lifehow I love you！〃
The Alice behind him could be