strangest interest in all he said and did, and that his words made the
deepest impression on me.

No doubt it is pleasant to be listened to by one whose face tells you
you are understood; and the tutor was not in a hurry to go away. He had
got up from the window, I know, with the intention of going out of the
room, but he continued standing, looking down at me and talking, for
half an hour at least.

The soft morning wind came in at the open door and window, with a scent
of rose and honeysuckle: the pretty little room was full of the early
sunshine in which there is no glare: I can see it all now, and I can
hear, as ever, his low voice.

He talked of the book I held in my hand, of the views on the river, of
the pleasantness of country life. I fancy I did not say much, though I
never am able to remember what I said when talking to him. Whatever I
said was a mere involuntary accord with him. I never recollect to have
felt that I did not agree with and admire every word he uttered.

How different his manner from last night when he had talked with Mary
Leighton; all the stiffness, the half-concealed repelling tone was
gone. I had not heard him speak to any one, except perhaps once to
Benny, as he spoke now. I was quite sure that he liked me, and that he
did not class me with the others in the house. But when the
breakfast-bell rang, he gave a slight start, and his voice changed; and
such a frown came over his face! He looked at his watch, said something
about the hour, and quickly left the room. I bent my head over my book
and sat still, till I heard them all come down and go into the
breakfast-room. I trusted they would not know he had been talking to me,