strove to pay Lady Alice no more attention than I paid to the rest of my
pupils; and I cannot help thinking that I succeeded. But now and then,
in the midst of some instruction I was giving Lady Alice, I caught the
eye of Lady Lucy, a sharp, common-minded girl, fixed upon one or the
other of us, with an inquisitive vulgar expression, which I did not
like. This made me more careful still. I watched my tones, to keep them
even, and free from any expression of the feeling of which my heart was
full. Sometimes, however, I could not help revealing the gratification I
felt when she made some marvellous remark--marvellous, I mean, in
relation to her other attainments; such a remark as a child will
sometimes make, showing that he has already mastered, through his
earnest simplicity, some question that has for ages perplexed the wise
and the prudent. On one of these occasions, I found the cat eyes of Lady
Lucy glittering on me. I turned away; not, I fear, without showing some
displeasure.

Whether it was from Lady Lucy's evil report, or that the change in Lady
Alice's habits and appearance had attracted the attention of Lady
Hilton, I cannot tell; but one morning she appeared at the door of the
study, and called her. Lady Alice rose and went, with a slight gesture
of impatience. In a few minutes she returned, looking angry and
determined, and resumed her seat. But whatever it was that had passed
between them, it had destroyed that quiet flow of the feelings which was
necessary to the working of her thoughts. In vain she tried: she could
do nothing correctly. At last she burst into tears and left the room. I
was almost beside myself with distress and apprehension. She did not
return that day.

Next morning she entered at the usual hour, looking composed, but paler
than of late, and showing signs of recent weeping. When we were all