Love

“The fact was, that the moment he began to love Alice, his eyes began to send forth light.  What he thought came from Alice’s face, really came from his eyes.  All about her and her path he could see, and every minute saw better; but to his own path he was blind.  He could not see his hand when he held it straight before his face, so dark was it.  But he could see Alice, and that was better than seeing the way—ever so much. 

At length Alice too began to see a face dawning through the darkness.  It was Richard’s face: but it was far handsomer than when she saw it last.  Her eyes had begun to give light too.  And she said to herself, ‘Can it be that I love the poor widow’s son?—I suppose that must be it,’ she answered herself, with a smile; for she was not disgusted with herself at all.  Richard saw the smile, and was glad.  Her paleness had gone, and a sweet rosiness had taken its place.  And now she saw Richard’s path as he saw hers, and between the two sights they got on well.”

--George MacDonald in “Cross Purposes”