I might have been mistaken, but I thought Mrs. Rymer answered me in no very friendly way. Resolved to judge for myself, I entered the lodge, and found my poor little pupil sitting in a corner, crying. When I asked her what was the matter, the excuse of a "bad headache" was the only reply that I received. The natures of young girls are a hopeless puzzle to me. Susan seemed, for some reason which it was impossible to understand, to be afraid to look at me.
"Have you and your mother been quarreling?" I asked.
"Oh, no!"
She denied it with such evident sincerity that I could not for a moment suspect her of deceiving me. Whatever the cause of her distress might be, it was plain that she had her own reasons for keeping it a secret.
Her French books were on the table. I tried a little allusion to her lessons.
"I hope you will go on regularly with your studies," I said.
"I will do my best, sir--without you to help me."She said it so sadly that I proposed--purely from the wish to encourage her--a continuation of our lessons through the post.
