Wishing to change the subject, I asked Miss Lee if she drew?
"A little." "Let us examine these beautiful prints," said I.
I gave her a chair, and leant over her.

My heart fluttered with delight.

I forgot my recent mortification.

I was near her, and, in the rapture of the moment, could have defied the malice of the whole world.
"I am no judge of the merits or demerits of a picture," she said, in her sweet, gentle voice.

"I know what pleases me, and suffer my heart to decide for my head." "That is exactly my case, Miss Lee.