You sometimes wish in your vexation, as you see her running, that she would fall and hurt herself badly; but the next moment it seems a very wicked wish, and you renounce it. Once she did come very near it. You were all playing together by the big swing; (how plainly it swings in your memory now!) Madge had the seat, and you were famous for running under with a long push, which Madge liked better than anything else;--well, you have half run over the ground when, crash! comes the swing, and poor Madge with it! You fairly scream as you catch her up. But she is not hurt,--only a cry of fright, and a little sprain of that fairy ankle; and as she brushes away the tears and those flaxen curls, and breaks into a merry laugh,--half at your woe-worn face, and half in vexation at herself,--and leans her hand (such a hand!) upon your shoulder, to limp away into the shade, you dream your first dream of love. But it is only a dream, not at all acknowledged by you; she is three or four years your junior,--too young altogether. It is very absurd to talk about it. There is nothing to be said of Madge, only--Madge! The name does it. It is rather a pretty name to write. You are fond of making capital M's; and sometimes you follow it with a capital A. Then you practise a little upon a D, and perhaps back it up with a G. Of course it is the merest accident that these letters come together. It seems funny to you--very. And as a proof that they are made at random, you make a T or an R before them, and some other quite irrelevant letters after it. Finally, as a sort of security against all suspicion, you cross it out,--cross it a great many ways, even holding it up to the light to see that there should be no air of intention about it. ----You need have no fear, Clarence, that your hieroglyphics will be studied so closely. Accidental as they are, you are very much more interested in them than any one else. ----It is a common fallacy of this dream in most stages of life, that a vast number of persons employ their time chiefly in spying out its operations. Yet Madge cares nothing about you, that you know of. Perhaps it is the very reason, though you do not suspect it then, why you care so much for her. At any rate she is a friend of Nelly's, and it is your duty not to dislike her. Nelly too, sweet Nelly, gets an inkling of matters,--for sisters are very shrewd in suspicions of this sort, shrewder than brothers or fathers,--and, like the good, kind girl that she is, she wishes to humor even your weakness. Madge drops in to tea quite often: Nelly has something _in particular_ to show her, two or three times a week. Good Nelly! perhaps she is making your troubles all the greater. You gather large bunches of grapes for Madge--because she is a friend of Nelly's--which she doesn't want at all, and very pretty bouquets, which she either drops or pulls to pieces.