He thought of many a sympathetic glance
she had given when he spoke of his aims and intentions, of many a gentle
word spoken in praise of him, and which at the time he had taken merely as
so much small, good-natured flattery, such as agreeable people deal out to
each other in society without any thought of evil nor any especial meaning
of good. All these things came back to him, and he read the little note
again. It was a kindly word, nothing more, penned by a wild, good-hearted
girl, in the scorn of consequence or social propriety. It was nothing but
that.
And yet, there was something more in it all--something not expressed in
the abbreviated words and hurriedly-composed sentences, but something that
seemed to struggle for expression. John's experience of womankind was
limited, for he was no lady's man, and had led a life singularly lacking
in woman's love or sentiment, though singularly dependent on the
friendship of some woman. Nevertheless he knew that Joe's note breathed
the essence of a sympathy wider than that of mere every-day acquaintance,
and deeper, perhaps, than that of any friendship he had known.
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