Lucia, hovering near her uncle and Gerald, kept them to herself, but
was disturbed to find that their eyes often wandered to the cheerful
group about the table, and that their attention seemed distracted by
the frequent bursts of laughter and fragments of animated conversation
which reached them. In the midst of an account of a tragic affair which
she endeavored to make as interesting and pathetic as possible, Sir
John burst into a hearty laugh, which betrayed that he had been
listening to a livelier story than her own. Much annoyed, she said
hastily, "I knew it would be so! Bella has no idea of the proper manner
in which to treat a governess. She and Ned will forget the difference
of rank and spoil that person for her work. She is inclined to be
presumptuous already, and if my aunt won't trouble herself to give Miss
Muir a hint in time, I shall."
"Wait until she has finished that story, I beg of you," said Coventry,
for Sir John was already off.
"If you find that nonsense so entertaining, why don't you follow Uncle's
example? I don't need you."
"Thank you. I will." And Lucia was deserted.
But Miss Muir had ended and, beckoning to Bella, left the room, as if
quite unconscious of the honor conferred upon her or the dullness she
left behind her. Ned went up to his mother, Gerald returned to make his
peace with Lucia, and, bidding them good-night, Sir John turned
homeward. Strolling along the terrace, he came to the lighted window of
Bella's study, and wishing to say a word to her, he half pushed aside
the curtain and looked in. A pleasant little scene. Bella working
busily, and near her in a low chair, with the light falling on her fair
hair and delicate profile, sat Miss Muir reading aloud. "Novels!"
thought Sir John, and smiled at them for a pair of romantic girls. But
pausing to listen a moment before he spoke, he found it was no novel,
but history, read with a fluency which made every fact interesting,
every sketch of character memorable, by the dramatic effect given to it.
Sir John was fond of history, and failing eyesight often curtailed his
favorite amusement. He had tried readers, but none suited him, and he
had given up the plan. Now as he listened, he thought how pleasantly the
smoothly flowing voice would wile away his evenings, and he envied Bella
her new acquisition.
A bell rang, and Bella sprang up, saying, "Wait for me a minute. I must
run to Mamma, and then we will go on with this charming prince."
Away she went, and Sir John was about to retire as quietly as he came,
when Miss Muir's peculiar behavior arrested him for an instant. Dropping
the book, she threw her arms across the table, laid her head down upon
them, and broke into a passion of tears, like one who could bear
restraint no longer. Shocked and amazed, Sir John stole away; but all
that night the kindhearted gentleman puzzled his brains with conjectures
about his niece's interesting young governess, quite unconscious that
she intended he should do so.