were a little more orderly."

"Certainly. If their parents had only common sense--"

He stopped. A flush had risen to the girl's face, and a slight
involuntary motion of her hand seemed to warn him. The reason was
that Mrs. Tootle stood in the doorway, to which he had his back
turned. Miss Enderby said a quick "good morning" and left him.

He was taking up some papers, preparatory to leaving the room, when
he noticed that the governess had left behind her a little book in
which she was accustomed to jot down lessons for the children. He
took it up and examined it. On the first page was written "Maud
Enderby, South Bank, Regent's Park." He repeated the name to himself
several times. Then he smiled, recalling the way in which the
governess had warned him that Mrs. Tootle could overhear what he
said. Somehow, this slight gesture of the girl's had seemed to bring
them closer to each other; there was an unpremeditated touch of
intimacy in the movement, which it pleased him to think of. This was
by no means the first time that he had stood with thoughts busied
about her, but the brief exchange of words and what had followed
gave something of a new complexion to his feelings. Previously he
had been interested in her; her striking features had made him
wonder what was the history which their expression concealed; but
her extreme reticence and the timid coldness of her look had left
his senses unmoved. Now he all at once experienced the awakening of
quite a new interest; there had been something in her eyes as they
met his which seemed to desire sympathy; he was struck with the
possibilities of emotion in the face which this one look had
revealed to him. Her situation seemed, when he thought of it, to