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The Wings of Icarus - Being the Life of one Emilia Fletcher by Laurence Alma-Tadema
page 52 of 139 (37%)
pincushion, and with these implements I mended my skirt as best I
could. But to return to the library. The confusion we found it in is
indescribable. When first we began operations Gabriel stood about in
a helpless way, but he became enthusiastic as the work of clearance
advanced, and laboured with good will.

"This was a veritable inspiration!" he cried presently, perching
himself upon the table; "there hasn't been a corner to sit upon for
weeks, not for weeks. It's very odd: I believe that I much prefer to
see things kept in order, only I haven't the least idea how to bring
such a state about. None of us have. Why! there's Plato! Blessings
upon you, Emilia! He must have been behind the piano quite two
months. I have hunted for him high and low." He seized the volume
rapturously and began reading aloud.

"That's all Greek to me," said I.

"Come along then," said he, "let's leave off now, the room's
beautiful; come, I'll teach you the alphabet."

And this was the germ of a scheme we have started. We had been
racking our brains for some time past how to meet during the winter,
in defiance of shortening days, cold, rain, and prejudice. Now we
have it. He is to teach me Greek, and will come to the house to give
me lessons. Thanks to my foreign extraction and to a certain
reputation I have got here for originality, my old ladies were not
at all surprised when I told them that a poor gentleman who lived
with his father and his aunt towards Miltonhoe was coming twice a
week to teach me. On the contrary, their kind old hearts were
touched at the mere mention of poverty, and they asked if I wouldn't
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