Directly in front of the pew that I occupied sat two ladies and a gentleman, regular attendants likewise; the elderly lady was very lame, and required assistance both in getting in and out of the carriage, and the gentleman, I thought, seemed rather indifferent about her comfort, for he was not as tender and delicate in his attentions as he should have been. Almost the whole trouble of assisting her fell on the young lady, who, I presumed, was her daughter. I had a very great desire to offer my services, but my shyness of strangers prevented me, although every succeeding week I saw that the poor invalid was less and less able to help herself. Standing very near them one day, I found that it was utterly impossible for the young lady to get her aged relative in the carriage without help, so I stepped hastily forward just as the old lady was falling from the step, and in time to catch her in my arms. I lifted her gently in the carriage, seated her comfortably in it, sprung out again, and offered my hand to the young lady. It was the impulse of a moment. The door closed, and the carriage was soon out of sight.
But what a tumult and confusion I was in; what strange feelings overpowered me. There had been magic in the touch of the hand. There had been magic in the glance of her eye, as she turned to thank me. A dreamy softness came over me, and diffused itself through my very soul. I could not imagine why it was that so slight an incident should have affected me so deeply; but I thought of nothing, dreamed of nothing, but the touch of that hand and the glance of that beautiful eye. It was in vain that I took up my pen or my book, in the evening; in a few seconds, my hand dropped and my eye rested on vacancy.
With more than usual care I attended to my dress on the following Sunday, and I was there at
