THE VIOLET OF. THE VALLEY. 35 
with all mankind, she was as yet untouched by 
Love. 
But Love at length came, timid as he ever cometh : 
concealing himself at first, behind the trees, or screened 
by the surrounding bushes, as if all he coveted was to 
listen to the music of her voice. When he appeared, 
she vanished ; when he retreated, she was again in her 
accustomed place. It was as if the sunshine was sport¬ 
ing with the beautiful shadow, and both vanished at 
the same moment of time,—as if Love and Modesty 
were ashamed of accosting each other, though they 
were ever sighing when alone to be made one. Until 
one day, Love, emboldened, left a bouquet upon her 
fa\ oiite luial seat, hiding himself while he watched 
the Violet of the Valley untwining her sister flowers. 
As she held them in her hand the Moss-rose fell 
against her heart, and she felt a strange fluttering 
from within, which told her that Love was folding his 
wings, and taking possession of his new abode ; while 
from her heaving heart arose this confession, her cheek 
became blanched until it was paler than the blossoms 
of the Jasmine, then over all arose a flushing warmth, 
the pearly pinkness of blushing love mantling her 
cheek, and making it more beautiful than the most 
