Our Gentleman Boarder 



of filling up a vague outline of truth with 

 details of my own imagining. Therefore 

 I will at once acknowledg-e that for much 

 m what I tell I am indebted to my Mother, 

 who, when I grew old enough, confided to 

 me more than once the whole sad little 

 story of Mary's love. And on the other 

 hand I must confess to a certain precocity 

 of sympathy in my childhood, which caught 

 at and stored up in a very tender heart 

 many things which I could not wholly 

 comprehend. Words and looks, where 

 my heart was stirred, were imprinted upon 

 my memory, even while the facts that lay 

 behind them were widely out of range of 

 my immature understanding. 



It soon became a usual occurrence for 

 Mary and Mr. Trevanion to read together 

 for a while before tea. My Mother was a 

 little discomfited by this, and hunted up 

 many an unnecessary task which should 

 keep Mary occupied at that time ; but love 

 would find out the way in this case as in 

 all others. Mr. Trevanion took great 

 delight in the French language, and sang 

 charming songs in that tongue to his guitar 

 in the evenings : very helpless and alarmed 

 my Mother felt one time, when Esther, the 

 only one of us beside Mary w^ho knew 

 what the words were about, broke out into 



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