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half-told, and who is impatient to hear the sequel.'
He sat down. I recalled his singular conduct of yesterday, and
really I began to fear his wits were touched. If he were insane,
however, his was a very cool and collected insanity: I had never
seen that handsome-featured face of his look more like chiselled
marble than it did just now, as he put aside his snow-wet hair from
his forehead and let the firelight shine free on his pale brow and
cheek as pale, where it grieved me to discover the hollow trace of
care or sorrow now so plainly graved. I waited, expecting he would say
something I could at least comprehend; but his hand was now at his
chin, his finger on his lip: he was thinking. It struck me that his
hand looked wasted like his face. A perhaps uncalled-for gush of
pity came over my heart: I was moved to say-
'I wish Diana or Mary would come and live with you: it is too bad
that you should be quite alone; and you are recklessly rash about your
own health.'
'Not at all,' said he: 'I care for myself when necessary. I am well
now. What do you see amiss in me?'
This was said with a careless, abstracted indifference, which
showed that my solicitude was, at least in his opinion, wholly
superfluous. I was silenced.
He still slowly moved his finger over his upper lip, and still
his eye dwelt dreamily on the glowing grate; thinking it urgent to say
something, I asked him presently if he felt any cold draught from
the door, which was behind him.
'No, no!' he responded shortly and somewhat testily.
'Well,' I reflected, 'if you won't talk, you may be still; I'll let
you alone now, and return to my book.'
So I snuffed the candle and resumed the perusal of Marmion. He soon
stirred; my eye was instantly drawn to his movements; he only took out
a morocco pocket-book, thence produced a letter, which he read in
silence, folded it, put it back, relapsed into meditation. It was vain
to try to read with such an inscrutable fixture before me; nor could
I, in my impatience, consent to be dumb; he might rebuff me if he
liked, but talk I would.
'Have you heard from Diana and Mary lately?'
'Not since the letter I showed you a week ago.'
'There has not been any change made about your own arrangements?
You will not be summoned to leave England sooner than you expected?'
'I fear not, indeed: such chance is too good to befall me.' Baffled
so far, I changed my ground. I bethought myself to talk about the
school and my scholars.
'Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the
school this morning, and I shall have four new girls next week from
the Foundry Close- they would have come to-day but for the snow.'
'Indeed!'
'Mr. Oliver pays for two.'
'Does he?'
'He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas.'
'I know.'
'Was it your suggestion?'
'No.'
'Whose, then?'
'His daughter's, I think.'