John Mortimer was pleased when he saw his girls laughing over this
effusion, but anxiety still weighed heavily on his soul--he did not
live on any hope of his own, rather on Emily's hope and on a kiss.
He perceived how completely but for his father's companionship he had
all his life been alone. It would have been out of all nature that such
a man falling in love thus unaware should have loved moderately. All the
fresh fancies of impassioned tenderness and doubt and fear, all the
devotion and fealty that youth wastes often and almost forgets, woke up
in his heart to full life at once, unworn and unsoiled. The strongest
natures go down deepest among the hidden roots of feeling, and into the
silent wells of thought.
It had not seemed unnatural heretofore to stand alone, but now he longed
for something to lean upon, for a look from Emily's eyes, a touch from
her hand.
But she vouchsafed him nothing. She was not so unconscious of the kiss
she had bestowed as he had believed she would be; perhaps this was
because he had mistaken its meaning and motive.
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