I sharply turned my head away, partly because his presence utterly displeased me, and partly because I wished to shun questions lest, in my present mood, the effort of answering should overmaster self-command.
"Come", said he, more softly, "tell me the truth—you grieve at being parted from friends—is it not so?"
The insinuating softness was not more acceptable than the inquisitorial curiosity. I was silent. He came into the room, sat down on the bench about two yards from me, and persevered long and, for him, patiently, in attempts to draw me into conversation—attempts necessarily unavailing, because I could not talk. At last I entreated to be let alone. In uttering the request, my voice faltered, my head sank on my arms and the table. I wept bitterly, though quietly. He sat a while longer. I did not look up nor speak till the closing door and his retreating step told me that he was gone. These tears proved a relief.
I had time to bathe my eyes before breakfast, and I suppose I appeared at that meal as serene as any other person; not, however, quite as jocund-looking as the young lady who placed herself in the seat opposite mine, fixed on me a pair of somewhat small eyes twinkling gleefully, and frankly stretched across the table a white hand to be shaken. Miss Fanshawe's travels, gaieties, and flirtations agreed with her mightily; she had become quite plump, her cheeks looked as round as apples. I had seen her last in elegant evening attire. I don't know that she looked less charming now in her school-dress, a kind of careless peignoir of a dark-blue material, dimly and dingily plaided with black. I even think this dusky wrapper gave her charms a triumph; enhancing by contrast the fairness of her skin, the freshness of her bloom, the golden beauty of her tresses.
"I am glad you are come back, Timon", said she. Timon was one of her dozen names for me. "You don't know how often I have wanted you in this dismal hole".
"Oh! have you? Then, of course, if you wanted me, you have something for me to do; stockings to mend, perhaps?" I never gave Ginevra a minute's or a farthing's credit for disinterestedness.
"Crabbed and crusty as ever!" said she. "I expected as much; it would not be you if you did not snub me. But
