human
They are Shirley's, you see,
gpt
Did _you_ give them to Mr. Moore? She wrote them with Mrs. Pryor, I suppose?
human
She wrote them in my schoolroom at Sympson Grove, when she lived with us there. Mr. Moore taught her French; it is his native language.
gpt
I know. Was she a good pupil, Henry?
human
She was a wild, laughing thing, but pleasant to have in the room. She made lesson-time charming. She learned fast--you could hardly tell when or how. French was nothing to her. She spoke it quick, quick--as quick as Mr. Moore himself.
gpt
Was she obedient? Did she give trouble?
human
She gave plenty of trouble, in a way. She was giddy, but I liked her. I'm desperately fond of Shirley.
gpt
I _am desperately_ fond of her. She is the light of my eyes. I said so to Mr. Moore last night.
human
He would reprove you for speaking with exaggeration.
gpt
He didn't. He never reproves and reproves, as girls' governesses do. He was reading, and he only smiled into his book, and said that if Miss Keeldar was no more than that, she was less than he took her to be; for I was but a dim-eyed, short-sighted little chap. I'm afraid I am a poor unfortunate, Miss Caroline Helstone. I am a cripple, you know.
human
Never mind, Henry, you are a very nice little fellow; and if God has not given you health and strength, He has given you a good disposition and an excellent heart and brain.
gpt
I shall be despised. I sometimes think both Shirley and you despise me.
human
Listen, Henry. Generally, I don't like schoolboys. I have a great horror of them. They seem to me little ruffians, who take an unnatural delight in killing and tormenting birds, and insects, and kittens, and whatever is weaker than themselves. But you are so different I am quite fond of you. You have almost as much sense as a man (far more, God wot, she muttered to herself,
gpt
I _am_ fond of reading. I know I have sense, and I know I have feeling.
human
Henry, she said,
gpt
I have brought your lunch here. I shall prepare it for you myself.
human
What are you two about, she continued,
gpt
Looking at your old copy-books,
human
My old copy-books?
gpt
French exercise-books. Look here! They must be held precious; they are kept carefully.
human
Did not know one was in existence, she said.
gpt
I thought the whole lot had long since lit the kitchen fire, or curled the maid's hair at Sympson Grove.--What made you keep them, Henry?
human
It is not my doing. I should not have thought of it. It never entered my head to suppose copy-books of value. Mr. Moore put them by in the inner drawer of his desk. Perhaps he forgot them.
gpt
C'est cela. He forgot them, no doubt, echoed Shirley.
human
They are extremely well written,
gpt
What a giddy girl you were, Shirley, in those days! I remember you so well. A slim, light creature whom, though you were so tall, I could lift off the floor. I see you with your long, countless curls on your shoulders, and your streaming sash. You used to make Mr. Moore lively--that is, at first. I believe you grieved him after a while.
human
That was written one winter afternoon. It was a description of a snow scene.
gpt
I remember, said Henry.
human
Mr. Moore, when he read it, cried, 'Voilà le Français gagné!' He said it was well done. Afterwards you made him draw, in sepia, the landscape you described.
gpt
You have not forgotten, then, Hal?
human
Not at all. We were all scolded that day for not coming down to tea when called. I can remember my tutor sitting at his easel, and you standing behind him, holding the candle, and watching him draw the snowy cliff, the pine, the deer couched under it, and the half-moon hung above.
gpt
Where are his drawings, Harry? Caroline should see them.
human
In his portfolio. But it is padlocked; he has the key.
gpt
Ask him for it when he comes in.
human
You should ask him, Shirley. You are shy of him now. You are grown a proud lady to him; I notice that.
gpt
Shirley, you are a real enigma, whispered Caroline in her ear.
human
What queer discoveries I make day by day now!--I who thought I had your confidence. Inexplicable creature! even this boy reproves you.
gpt
I have forgotten 'auld lang syne,' you see, Harry,
human
Which you never should have done. You don't deserve to be a man's morning star if you have so short a memory.
gpt
A man's morning star, indeed! and by 'a man' is meant your worshipful self, I suppose? Come, drink your new milk while it is warm.
human
My poor lame darling!
gpt
Whether do you like me or Mr. Sam Wynne best, Shirley?
human
O Harry, Sam Wynne is my aversion; you are my pet.
gpt
Me or Mr. Malone?
human
You again, a thousand times.
gpt
Yet they are great whiskered fellows, six feet high each.
human
Whereas, as long as you live, Harry, you will never be anything more than a little pale lameter.
gpt
Yes, I know.
human
You need not be sorrowful. Have I not often told you who was almost as little, as pale, as suffering as you, and yet potent as a giant and brave as a lion?
gpt
Admiral Horatio?
human
Admiral Horatio, Viscount Nelson, and Duke of Bronte; great at heart as a Titan; gallant and heroic as all the world and age of chivalry; leader of the might of England; commander of her strength on the deep; hurler of her thunder over the flood.
gpt
A great man. But I am not warlike, Shirley; and yet my mind is so restless I burn day and night--for what I can hardly tell--to be--to do--to suffer, I think.
human
Harry, it is your mind, which is stronger and older than your frame, that troubles you. It is a captive; it lies in physical bondage. But it will work its own redemption yet. Study carefully not only books but the world. You love nature; love her without fear. Be patient--wait the course of time. You will not be a soldier or a sailor, Henry; but if you live you will be--listen to my prophecy--you will be an author, perhaps a poet.
gpt
An author! It is a flash--a flash of light to me! I will--I _will_! I'll write a book that I may dedicate it to you.
human
You will write it that you may give your soul its natural release. Bless me! what am I saying? more than I understand, I believe, or can make good. Here, Hal--here is your toasted oatcake; eat and live!
gpt
Willingly! here cried a voice outside the open window.
human
I know that fragrance of meal bread. Miss Keeldar, may I come in and partake?
gpt
Mr. Hall --it was Mr. Hall, and with him was Louis Moore, returned from their walk--
human
I approve the perfume, and therefore shall suffer myself to be led by the nose,
gpt
Burglars! said he.--
human
Henry, you merit the ferule.
gpt
Give it to Shirley and Caroline; they did it,
human
Traitor and false witness! cried both the girls.
gpt
We never laid hands on a thing, except in the spirit of laudable inquiry!
human
Exactly so, said Moore, with his rare smile.
gpt
And what have you ferreted out, in your 'spirit of laudable inquiry'?
human
This is empty, said he.
gpt
Who has taken----
human
Here, here!