of the Eternal, which she endeavored to impart to me.

"Almost every day I found in my pockets, in my hat when I lifted it from
the ground, in my paintbox, in my polished shoes, standing in front of my
door in the morning, those little pious tracts which she no doubt,
received directly from Paradise.

"I treated her as one would an old friend, with unaffected cordiality.
But I soon perceived that she had changed somewhat in her manner, though,
for a while, I paid little attention to it.

"When I was painting, whether in my valley or in some country lane, I
would see her suddenly appear with her rapid, springy walk. She would
then sit down abruptly, out of breath, as though she had been running or
were overcome by some profound emotion. Her face would be red, that
English red which is denied to the people of all other countries; then,
without any reason, she would turn ashy pale and seem about to faint
away. Gradually, however, her natural color would return and she would
begin to speak.

"Then, without warning, she would break off in the middle of a sentence,
spring up from her seat and walk away so rapidly and so strangely that I
was at my wits' ends to discover whether I had done or said anything to
displease or wound her.

"I finally came to the conclusion that those were her normal manners,
somewhat modified no doubt in my honor during the first days of our
acquaintance.

"When she returned to the farm, after walking for hours on the windy