 keeps me dumb. If I offered my
heart, I believe you would accept it. But that heart is already laid on a sacred
altar: the fire is arranged round it. It will soon be no more than a sacrifice
consumed.«
    And then she would pout like a disappointed child; a pensive cloud would
soften her radiant vivacity; she would withdraw her hand hastily from his, and
turn in transient petulance from his aspect, at once so heroic and so
martyrlike. St John, no doubt, would have given the world to follow, recall,
retain, her, when she thus left him: but he would not give one chance of Heaven;
nor relinquish, for the elysium of her love, one hope of the true, eternal
Paradise. Besides, he could not bound all that he had in his nature - the rover,
the aspirant, the poet, the priest - in the limits of a single passion. He could
not - he would not - renounce his wild field of mission warfare for the parlours
and the peace of Vale-Hall. I learnt so much from himself, in an inroad I once,
despite his reserve, had the daring to make on his confidence.
    Miss Oliver already honoured me with frequent visits to my cottage. I had
learnt her whole character; which was without mystery or disguise: she was
coquettish, but not heartless; exacting, but not worthlessly selfish. She had
been indulged from her birth, but was not absolutely spoilt. She was hasty, but
good-humoured; vain (she could not help it, when every glance in the glass
showed her such a flush of loveliness), but not affected; liberal-handed;
innocent of the pride of wealth; ingenuous; sufficiently intelligent; gay,
lively, and unthinking: she was very charming, in short, even to a cool observer
of her own sex like me; but she was not profoundly interesting or thoroughly
impressive. A very different sort of mind was hers from that, for instance, of
the sisters of St John. Still, I liked her almost as I liked my pupil Adèle:
except that, for a child whom we have watched over and taught, a closer
affection is engendered than we can give an equally attractive adult
acquaintance.
    She had taken an amiable caprice to me. She said I was like Mr. Rivers
(only, certainly, she allowed, »not one-tenth so handsome; though I was a nice
neat little soul enough, but he was an angel«). I was, however, good, clever,
