for her own scattered and scanty education, she had begun to speak of it
almost with bitterness. George's talk and recollections betrayed quite
unconsciously the standards of the academic or highly-trained
professional class to which all his father's kindred belonged; and his
only sister, a remarkably gifted girl, who had died of pneumonia at
eighteen, just as she was going to Girton, seemed to Nelly, when he
occasionally described or referred to her, a miracle--a terrifying
miracle--of learning and accomplishment.

Once indeed, she broke out in distress:--'Oh, George, I don't know
anything! Why wasn't I sent to school! We had a wretched little
governess who taught us nothing. And then I'm lazy--I never was
ambitious--like Bridget. Do you mind that I'm so stupid--do you mind?'

And she laid her hands on his knee, as they sat together among the fern,
while her eyes searched his face in a real anxiety.

What joy it was to laugh at her--to tease her!

'_How_ stupid are you, darling? Tell me, exactly. It is of course a
terrible business. If I'd only known--'

But she would be serious.

'I don't know _any_ languages, George! Just a little French--but you'd
be ashamed if you heard me talking it. As to history--don't ask!' She
shrugged her shoulders despairingly. Then her face brightened. 'But
there's something! I do love poetry--I've read a lot of poetry.'

'That's all right--so have I,' he said, promptly.