The Woodlanders

"I am the most inactive woman when I am here," she said. "I think

sometimes I was born to live and do nothing, nothing, nothing but float

about, as we fancy we do sometimes in dreams. But that cannot be

really my destiny, and I must struggle against such fancies."

"I am so sorry you do not enjoy exertion--it is quite sad! I wish I

could tend you and make you very happy."

There was something so sympathetic, so appreciative, in the sound of

Grace's voice, that it impelled people to play havoc with their

customary reservations in talking to her. "It is tender and kind of

you to feel that," said Mrs. Charmond. "Perhaps I have given you the

notion that my languor is more than it really is. But this place

oppresses me, and I have a plan of going abroad a good deal. I used to

go with a relative, but that arrangement has dropped through."

Regarding Grace with a final glance of criticism, she seemed to make up

her mind to consider the young girl satisfactory, and continued: "Now I

am often impelled to record my impressions of times and places. I have

often thought of writing a 'New Sentimental Journey.' But I cannot

find energy enough to do it alone. When I am at different places in

the south of Europe I feel a crowd of ideas and fancies thronging upon

me continually, but to unfold writing-materials, take up a cold steel

pen, and put these impressions down systematically on cold, smooth

paper--that I cannot do. So I have thought that if I always could have

somebody at my elbow with whom I am in sympathy, I might dictate any

ideas that come into my head. And directly I had made your

acquaintance the other day it struck me that you would suit me so well.

Would you like to undertake it? You might read to me, too, if

desirable. Will you think it over, and ask your parents if they are

willing?"

"Oh yes," said Grace. "I am almost sure they would be very glad."

"You are so accomplished, I hear; I should be quite honored by such

intellectual company."

Grace, modestly blushing, deprecated any such idea.

"Do you keep up your lucubrations at Little Hintock?"

"Oh no. Lucubrations are not unknown at Little Hintock; but they are

not carried on by me."

"What--another student in that retreat?"

"There is a surgeon lately come, and I have heard that he reads a great

deal--I see his light sometimes through the trees late at night."