He seemed to be unwilling to accept the invitation--then altered his mind,and followed Francine.She had visited Emily;she was perhaps in a fair way to become Emily's friend.He remembered that he had already lost an opportunity of studying her character,and--if he saw the necessity--of warning Emily not to encourage the advances of Miss de Sor.
"Very pretty,"he remarked,looking round the room--without appearing to care for anything in it,except the prints.
Francine was bent on fascinating him.She raised her eyebrows and lifted her hands,in playful remonstrance."Do remember it's myroom,"she said,"and take some little interest in it,for mysake!"
"What do you want me to say?"he asked.
"Come and sit down by me."She made room for him on the sofa.Her one favorite aspiration--the longing to excite envy in others--expressed itself in her next words."Say something pretty,"she answered;"say you would like to have such a room as this.""I should like to have your prints,"he remarked."Will that do?""It wouldn't do--from anybody else.Ah,Mr.Morris,I know why you are not as nice as you might be!You are not happy.The school has lost its one attraction,in losing our dear Emily.You feel it--I know you feel it."She assisted this expression of sympathy to produce the right effect by a sigh."What would I not give to inspire such devotion as yours!I don't envy Emily;Ionly wish--"She pau sed in confusion,and opened her fan."Isn't it pretty?"she said,with an ostentatious appearance of changing the subject.Alban behaved like a monster;he began to talk of the weather.
"I think this is the hottest day we have had,"he said;"no wonder you want your fan.Netherwoods is an airless place at this season of the year."She controlled her temper."I do indeed feel the heat,"she admitted,with a resignation which gently reproved him;"it is so heavy and oppressive here after Brighton.Perhaps my sad life,far away from home and friends,makes me sensitive to trifles.Do you think so,Mr.Morris?"The merciless man said he thought it was the situation of the house.
"Miss Ladd took the place in the spring,"he continued;"and only discovered the one objection to it some months afterward.We are in the highest part of the valley here--but,you see,it's a valley surrounded by hills;and on three sides the hills are near us.All very well in winter;but in summer I have heard of girls in this school so out of health in the relaxing atmosphere that they have been sent home again."Francine suddenly showed an interest in what he was saying.If he had cared to observe her closely,he might have noticed it.
"Do you mean that the girls were really ill?"she asked.
"No.They slept badly--lost appetite--started at trifling noises.
In short,their nerves were out of order."
"Did they get well again at home,in another air?""Not a doubt of it,"he answered,beginning to get weary of the subject."May I look at your books?"Francine's interest in the influence of different atmospheres on health was not exhausted yet."Do you know where the girls lived when they were at home?"she inquired.
"I know where one of them lived.She was the best pupil I ever had--and I remember she lived in Yorkshire."He was so weary of the idle curiosity--as it appeared to him--which persisted in asking trifling questions,that he left his seat,and crossed the room."May I look at your books?"he repeated.
"Oh,yes!"
The conversation was suspended for a while.The lady thought,"Ishould like to box his ears!"The gentleman thought,"She's only an inquisitive fool after all!"His examination of her books confirmed him in the delusion that there was really nothing in Francine's character which rendered it necessary to caution Emily against the advances of her new friend.Turning away from the book-case,he made the first excuse that occurred to him for putting an end to the interview.
"I must beg you to let me return to my duties,Miss de Sor.Ihave to correct the young ladies'drawings,before they begin again to-morrow."Francine's wounded vanity made a last expiring attempt to steal the heart of Emily's lover.
"You remind me that I have a favor to ask,"she said."I don't attend the other classes--but I should so like to join yourclass!May I?"She looked up at him with a languishing appearance of entreaty which sorely tried Alban's capacity to keep his face in serious order.He acknowledged the compliment paid to him in studiously commonplace terms,and got a little nearer to the open window.Francine's obstinacy was not conquered yet.
"My education has been sadly neglected,"she continued;"but Ihave had some little instruction in drawing.You will not find me so ignorant as some of the other girls."She waited a little,anticipating a few complimentary words.Alban waited also--in silence."I shall look forward with pleasure to my lessons under such an artist as yourself,"she went on,and waited again,and was disappointed again."Perhaps,"she resumed,"I may become your favorite pupil--Who knows?""Who indeed!"
It was not much to say,when he spoke at last--but it was enough to encourage Francine.She called him "dear Mr.Morris";she pleaded for permission to take her first lesson immediately;she clasped her hands--"Please say Yes!""I can't say Yes,till you have complied with the rules.""Are they yourrules?"
Her eyes expressed the readiest submission--in that case.He entirely failed to see it:he said they were Miss Ladd's rules--and wished her good-evening.
She watched him,walking away down the terrace.How was he paid?
Did he receive a yearly salary,or did he get a little extra money for each new pupil who took drawing lessons?In this last case,Francine saw her opportunity of being even with him "You brute!Catch me attending your class!"
