ell knew. But we would
both have died rather than admit the real reason.

[Illustration]

THE BLUE ROOM

THAT nature has her moments of sympathy with man has been noted often
enough,--and generally as a new discovery. To us, who had never known
any other condition of things, it seemed entirely right and fitting that
the wind sang and sobbed in the poplar tops, and, in the lulls of it,
sudden spirts of rain spattered the already dusty roads, on that
blusterous March day when Edward and I awaited, on the station platform,
the arrival of the new tutor. Needless to say, this arrangement had been
planned by an aunt, from some fond idea that our shy, innocent young
natures would unfold themselves during the walk from the station, and
that, on the revelation of each other's more solid qualities that must
inevitably ensue, an enduring friendship, springing from mutual respect,
might be firmly based. A pretty dream,--nothing more. For Edward, who
foresaw that the brunt of tutorial oppression would have to be borne by
him, was sulky, monosyllabic, and determined to be as negatively
disagreeable as good manners would permit. It was therefore evident that
I would have to be spokesman and purveyor of hollow civilities, and I
was none the more amiable on that account; all courtesies, welcomes,
explanations, and other court-chamberlain kind of business, being my
special aversion. There was much of the tempestuous March weather in the
hearts of both of us, as we sullenly glowered along the carriage-windows
of the slackening train.

One is apt, however, to misjudge the special difficulties of a
situation; and the reception proved, after all, an easy and informal
matter. In a trainful so uniformly bucolic, a tutor was readily
recognisable; and his portmanteau had been consigned to the
luggage-cart, and his person conveyed into the lane, before I had
discharged one of my carefully considered sentences. I breathed more
easily, and looking up at our new friend as we stepped out together,
remembered that we had been counting on something altogether more arid,
scholastic, and severe. A boyish eager face and a petulant
_pince-nez_--untidy hair--a head of constant quick turns like a robin's,
and a voice that kept breaking into alto--these were all very strange
and new, but not in the least terrible.

He proceeded jerkily through the village, with glances on this side and
that; and 'Charming,' he broke out presently; 'quite too cha