204 '^^^ Real Charlotte. 



arrival had imparted to it, *' and my horse is just as bored ; 

 I feel apologetic all the time and wishing I could do some- 

 thing to amuse him that wouldn't be dangerous. Do come ; 

 I'm sure he'd like it." 



" Oh, how anxious you are about him ! *' said Francie, 

 cutting bread and butter with a dexterous hand from the 

 loaf that Louisa had placed on the table in frank confession 

 of incapacity. " I don't know what I'll do till I've had my 

 tea. Here now, here's yours poured out for both of you ; I 

 suppose you'd like me to come and hand it to you ! " with a 

 propitiatory look at Lambert. 



Thus adjured, the two men seated themselves at the table, 

 on which Francie had prepared their tea and bread and 

 butter with a propriety that reminded Christopher of his 

 nursery days. It was a very agreeable feeling, he thought ; 

 and as he docilely drank his tea and laughed at Francie for 

 the amount of sugar that she put into hers, the idealising 

 process to which he was unconsciously subjecting her ad- 

 vanced a stage. He was beginning to lose sight of her vul- 

 garity, even to wonder at himself for ever having applied that 

 crudely inappropriate word to her. She had some reflected 

 vulgarities of course, thought the usually hypercritical Mr. 

 Christopher Dysart, and her literary progress along the lines 

 he had laid down for her was slow ; but, lately, since his 

 missionary resolve to let the light of culture illuminate her 

 darkness, he had found out subtle depths of sweetness and 

 sympathy that were, in their responsiveness, equivalent to 

 intellect. 



When Francie went up a few minutes later to put on her 

 habit, Christopher did not seem disposed to continue the 

 small talk in which his proficiency had been more surprising 

 than pleasing to Mr. Lambert. 



He strolled over to the window, and looked meditatively 

 out at Mrs. Bruff and a great-grandchild or two embowered 

 in a tangle of nasturtiums, and putting his hands in his 

 pockets began to whistle sotto voce. Lambert looked him 

 up and down, from his long thin legs to his small head, on 

 which the light brown hair grew rather long, with a wave in 

 it that was to Lambert the height of effeminacy. He began 

 to drum with his fingers on the table to show that he too 

 was quite undisturbed and at his ease. 



