And thus an acquaintance commenced.  I called often, for it seemed a pleasant thing to do.  As my excuse, I took with me my books, papers, and all the new publications which reached me.  I always thought they appeared very glad to see me.

Being strangers in the place, they saw but little company, and it seemed to be nothing more than my duty to call in now and then in a neighborly way.  I talked quite easily; for among books I felt at home.  They talked easily, too; for they (I say it in no ill-natured way) were women.  They began to consider my frequent calling as a matter of course, and always smiled upon me when I entered.  I felt that they congratulated themselves upon finding me out.  They had penetrated the ice, and found open sea beyond.  I speak of it in this way, because I afterwards overheard Ellen joking her sister about discovering the Northwest Passage to my heart.

This was in the fall of the year, when the evenings were getting quite long.  They were fond of reading, but had not much time for it.  I was fond of reading, and had many long evenings at my disposal.  It followed, therefore, that I read aloud, while they worked.  With the “Pink and Blue” just opposite, I read evening after evening.  At first I used to look up frequently, to see how such and such a passage would strike her; but one evening Ellen asked me, in a laughing, half-saucy sort of way, why I didn’t look at her sometimes to see how she liked things.  This made me color up; and Jane colored up, too.  After that I kept my eyes on my book; but I always knew when she stopped her work and raised her head at the interesting parts, and always hoped she didn’t see the red flushes spreading over my face, and always wished, too, that she would look away,—­for, somehow, my voice would not go on smoothly.

Those red flushes were to myself most mysterious.  Nevertheless, they continued, and even appeared to be on the increase.  At first, I felt them only while reading; then, upon entering the room; and at last they began to come before I got across the field.  Still I felt no real uneasiness, but, on the contrary, was glad I could be of so much use to the family.  Never before was the want of men-folks felt so little by a family of women-folks.  I did errands, split kindling, dug “tracks,” (i. e., paths in the snow,) and glued broken furniture.

I always thought of Jane as “Pink and Blue.”  Sometimes I thought from her manner that she would a little rather I wouldn’t come so often.  I thought she didn’t look up at me so pleasantly as she used to at first, and seemed a little stiff; but, as I had a majority in my favor, I continued my visits.  I always had one good look at her when I said good-night; but it made the red come, so that I had to hurry out before she saw.  It seemed to me that her cheeks then looked pinker than ever, and the two colors, pink and blue, seemed to mingle and float before my eyes all the way home.  “Pink and blue,” “pink and blue.”  How those two little words kept running in my head, and, I began to fear, in my heart too!—­for no sooner would I close my eyes at night than those delicate pink cheeks and blue eyes would appear before me.  They haunted my dreams, and were all ready to greet me at waking.