ed, beginning to get weary of the subject.
"May I look at your books?"

Francine's interest in the influence of different atmospheres on health
was not exhausted yet. "Do you know where the girls lived when they were
at home?" she inquired.

"I know where one of them lived. She was the best pupil I ever had--and
I remember she lived in Yorkshire." He was so weary of the idle
curiosity--as it appeared to him--which persisted in asking trifling
questions, that he left his seat, and crossed the room. "May I look at
your books?" he repeated.

"Oh, yes!"

The conversation was suspended for a while. The lady thought, "I should
like to box his ears!" The gentleman thought, "She's only an inquisitive
fool after all!" His examination of her books confirmed him in the
delusion that there was really nothing in Francine's character which
rendered it necessary to caution Emily against the advances of her new
friend. Turning away from the book-case, he made the first excuse that
occurred to him for putting an end to the interview.

"I must beg you to let me return to my duties, Miss de Sor. I have to
correct the young ladies' drawings, before they begin again to-morrow."

Francine's wounded vanity made a last expiring attempt to steal the
heart of Emily's lover.

"You remind me that I have a favor to ask," she said. "I don't attend
the other classes--but I should so like to join _your_ class! May I?"
She looked up at him with a languishing appearance of entreaty which
sorely tried Alban's capacity to keep his face in serious order. He
acknowledged the compliment paid to him in studiously commonplace terms,
and got a little nearer to the open window. Francine's obstinacy was not
conquered yet.

"My education has been sadly neglected," she continued; "but I have had
some little instruction in drawing. You will not find me so ignorant
as some of the other girls." She waited a little, anticipating a few
complimentary words. Alban waited also--in silence. "I shall look
forward with pleasure to my lessons under such an artist as yourself,"
she went on, and waited again, and was disappointed again. "Perhaps,"
she resumed, "I may become your favorite pupil--Who knows?"

"Who indeed!"

It was not much to say, when he spoke at last--but it was enough to
encourage Francine. She called him "dear Mr. Morris"; she pleaded
for permission to take her first lesson immediately; she clasped her
hands--"Please say Yes!"

"I can't say Yes,