Mixter."

This description of the relation between the two persons who had just
left the room made me break into a little laugh. Miss Spencer looked at
me gravely.

"She gives French lessons; she has lost her fortune."

"I see," I said. "She is determined to be a burden to no one. That is
very proper."

Miss Spencer looked down on the ground again, "I must go and get the
coffee," she said.

"Has the lady many pupils?" I asked.

"She has only Mr. Mixter. She gives all her time to him."

At this I could not laugh, though I smelt provocation; Miss Spencer was
too grave. "He pays very well," she presently added, with simplicity.
"He is very rich. He is very kind. He takes the Countess to drive." And
she was turning away.

"You are going for the Countess's coffee?" I said.

"If you will excuse me a few moments."

"Is there no one else to do it?"

She looked at me with the softest serenity. "I keep no servants."

"Can she not wait upon herself?"

"She is not used to that."

"I see," said I, as gently as possible. "But before you go, tell me
this: who is this lady?"

"I told you about her before--that day. She is the wife of my cousin,
whom you saw."

"The lady who was disowned by her family in consequence of her
marriage?"

"Yes; they have never seen her again. They have cast her off."

"And where is her husband?"

"He is dead."

"And where is your money?"

The poor girl flinched; there was something too consistent in my
questions. "I don't know," she said wearily.

But I continued a moment. "On her husband's death this lady came over
here?"

"Yes, she arrived one day."

"How long ago?"

"Two years."

"She has been here ever since?"

"Every moment."

"How does she like it?"

"Not at all."

"And how do _you_ like it?"

Miss Spencer laid her face in her two hands an instant, as she had done
ten minutes before.

Then, quickly, she went to get the Countess's coffee.

I remained alone in the little parlor; I wanted to see more, to learn
more. At the end of five minutes the young man whom Miss Spencer had
described as the Countess's pupil came in. He stood looking at me for a
moment with parted lips. I saw he was a very rudimentary young man.

"She wants to know if you won't come out there," he observed at last.

"Who wants to know?"

"The Countess. That French lady."

"She has asked you to bring me?"

"Yes, sir," said the young man feebly, looking at my six feet of
stature.