ed what she had better do next.
She glanced at the girls on the lawn, and decided that they were
unworthy of serious notice, on the part of a person so specially favored
as herself. She turned sidewise, and looked along the length of the
terrace. At the far end a tall man was slowly pacing to and fro, with
his head down and his hands in his pockets. Francine recognized the rude
drawing-master, who had torn up his view of the village, after she had
saved it from being blown into the pond.

She stepped out on the terrace, and called to him. He stopped, and
looked up.

"Do you want me?" he called back.

"Of course I do!"

She advanced a little to meet him, and offered encouragement under the
form of a hard smile. Although his manners might be unpleasant, he
had claims on the indulgence of a young lady, who was at a loss how to
employ her idle time. In the first place, he was a man. In the second
place, he was not as old as the music-master, or as ugly as the
dancing-master. In the third place, he was an admirer of Emily; and the
opportunity of trying to shake his allegiance by means of a flirtation,
in Emily's absence, was too good an opportunity to be lost.

"Do you remember how rude you were to me, on the day when you
were sketching in the summer-house?" Francine asked with snappish
playfulness. "I expect you to make yourself agreeable this time--I am
going to pay you a compliment."

He waited, with exasperating composure, to hear what the proposed
compliment might be. The furrow between his eyebrows looked deeper than
ever. There were signs of secret trouble in that dark face, so grimly
and so resolutely composed. The school, without Emily, presented the
severest trial of endurance that he had encountered, since the day when
he had been deserted and disgraced by his affianced wife.

"You are an artist," Francine proceeded, "and therefore a person of
taste. I want to have your opinion of my sitting-room. Criticism is
invited; pray come in."

He seemed to be unwilling to accept the invitation--then altered his
mind, and followed Francine. She had visited Emily; she was perhaps in
a fair way to become Emily's friend. He remembered that he had already
lost an opportunity of studying her character, and--if he saw the
necessity--of warning Emily not to encourage the advances of Miss de
Sor.

"Very pretty," he remarked, looking round the room--without appearing to
care for anything in it, except the prints.

Fran