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Updated: June 8, 2025
Besides, nobody loves me enough to be pitied, except papa. Isn't it pleasant here? How very green it is! It looks just like summer. Oh, Mr. Clerron, did you see the clouds this morning?" "There were none when I arose." "Why, yes, Sir, there was a great heap of them at sunrise." "I am not prepared to contradict you." "Perhaps you were not up at sunrise." "I have an impression to that effect."
"Oh, Mr. Clerron!" exclaimed Ivy, with a great gush of gratitude and happiness; "do I, can I, do you any good?" "You do and can, my tendril! You supply an element that was wanting in my life. You make every day beautiful to me. The flutter of your robes among these trees brings sunshine into my heart.
"Do I look as if anything was the matter?" and the face she turned upon him was so radiant, that even the father's heart was satisfied. Very quietly happy was Ivy to think she was of service to Mr. Clerron, that she could give him pleasure, though she could in no wise understand how it was.
She was not sorry to have so good an excuse for visiting the familiar room, though its usual occupant was not there to welcome her. Very quietly and joyfully happy, she trod slowly along the path through the woods where she last walked with Mr. Clerron. She was, indeed, at a loss to know why she was so calm. Always before, a sudden influx of joy testified itself by very active demonstrations.
A half-curious, half-sarcastic smile glimmered behind the heavy beard, and gleamed beneath the heavy eyebrows, as he answered, "I am happy to make your acquaintance"; but another glance at the trembling form, the frightened, pale face, and quivering lips, changed the smile into one that was very good-natured, and even kind; and he added, playfully, "I am Felix Clerron, very much at your service."
Mix, to be sure, but he smells so strong of paregoric, and I don't believe he knows much, either; and there's nobody else in town that knows any more than anybody else; and there's nothing for it but I must go to school, if I am ever to know anything." Clerron!" Oh, if I only did know him! I would ask him straight off to teach me. I should be scared to death.
Clerron, then you are not more than fairly up when I come. And when do you write?" "Always in the evening." "But the evenings are so short, or have been." "Mine are not particularly so. From six to three is about long enough for one sitting." "I should think so. And you must be so tired!" "Not so tired as you think.
Ivy, why do you draw back? Why do you not come to me?" "I cannot come to you, Mr. Clerron, any more. I must go home now, and stay at home." "When your home is here, Ivy, stay at home. For the present, don't go. Wait a little." "You do not understand me. You will not understand me," said Ivy, bursting into tears. "I must leave you. Don't make the way so difficult."
"Crying, my dear? Well, now, that's a pretty good one! Nervous she is, Mr. Clerron, always nervous, when the least thing ails her; and she didn't sleep a wink last night, which is a bad thing for the nerves, and Ivy generally sleeps like a top. She walked over to your house yesterday, and when she got home she was entirely beat out, looked as if she had been sick a week.
Clerron, nor is there the slightest probability that his fortune, or honor, or reputation, or sisters will ever be disturbed by me. I am very much obliged to you for your good intentions, and I wish you good morning." "Don't, now, Miss Ivy, go so" But Miss Ivy was gone, and Mrs. Simm could only withdraw to her pile of clothes, and console herself by stitching and darning with renewed vigor.
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