it was
that he had slept fairly well; a gleam of unwonted sunshine had
doubtless something to do with it. Yet there was another reason, though
he would scarcely admit it to himself. It was the day on which he gave
a drawing-lesson to Dr. Tootle's two eldest children. These
drawing-lessons were always given in a room upstairs, which was also
appropriated to the governess who came every morning to teach three
other young Tootles, two girls and a boy, the latter considered not yet
old enough to go into the school. On the previous day, Waymark had been
engaged in the room for half an hour touching up some drawings of boys
in the school, which were about to be sent home. He knew that he should
find a fresh governess busy with the children, the lady hitherto
employed having gone at a moment's notice after a violent quarrel with
Mrs. Tootle, an incident which had happened not infrequently before.
When he entered the room, he saw a young woman seated with her back to
him, penning a copy, whilst the children jumped and rioted about her in
their usual fashion. The late governess had been a mature person of
features rather serviceable than handsome; that her successor was of a
different type appeared sufficiently from the fair round head, the
gracefully handed neck, the perfect shoulders, the slight, beautiful
form. Waymark took his place and waited with some curiosity till she
moved. When she did so, and, rising, suddenly became aware of his
presence, there was a little start on both sides; Miss Enderby--so
Waymark soon heard her called by the pupils--had not been aware, owing
to the noise, of a stranger's entrance, and Waymark on his side was so
struck with the face presented to him. He had expected, at the most, a
pretty girl of the commonplace kind: he saw a countenance in which
refinement was as conspicuous as beauty. She was probably not more than
eighteen or nineteen. In speaking with the children she rarely if ever
smiled, but exhibited a gentle forbearance which had something touching
in it; it was almost as though she appealed for gentleness in return,
and feared a harsh word or look.

"That's Mr. Waymark," cried out Master Percy Tootle, when his overquick
eyes perceived that the two had seen each other. "He's our
drawing-master. Do you like the look of him?"

Miss Enderby reddened, and laid her hand on the boy's arm, trying to
direct his attention to a book. But the youngster shook off her gentle
touch, and looked at