"No, I won't abuse your patience again, but I will tell you: I should
like to come and look now and then at the picture Miss Saunders has
begun of her, and that I want her to keep on with."
"Why not?" asked Mrs. Maybough in the softest assent. She would not
listen to the injuries which Ludlow heaped upon himself in proof of his
unworthiness to cross her threshold.
He went back to Cornelia, and said, "Well, it's arranged. I've spoken
with Mrs. Maybough, and we can begin again whenever you like."
"With Mrs. Maybough? You said you were going to speak to Charmian!"
"It doesn't matter, does it?"
"Yes. I--I don't know yet as I want to go on with the picture. I hadn't
thought----"
"Oh!" said Ludlow, with marked politeness. "Then I misunderstood. But
don't let it annoy you. It doesn't matter, of course. There's no sort
of appointment."
He found Mrs. Westley in a moment of disoccupation before he went, and
used a friend's right to recognize the brilliancy of her Thursday. She
refused all merit for it and asked him if he had ever seen any thing
like the contrast of Charmian at the chocolate with Cornelia at the
tea. "Did you notice the gown Miss Saunders had on? It's one that her
mother has just sent her from home. She says her mother made it, and
she came to ask me, the other day, if it would do to pour tea in.
Wasn't it delightful? I'm going to have her spend a week with me in
Lent. The general has taken a great fancy to her. I think I begin to
appreciate her fascination; it's her courage and her candor together.
Most girls are so uncertain and capricious. It's delightful to meet
such a straightforward and downright creature."
"Oh, yes," said Ludlow.