“I am not quite sure. He is an interesting study, but he is young and one cannot tell how he may develop. I think often that the desire to try a variety of experiences will often make very young persons appear all things to all men, when really it is only a sort of eager curiosity which moves them. They are sincerely interested in any novelty which comes their way, and there is really no pretense about it. In this case I think only time will prove the real character. I am afraid this marriage he is contemplating will not be for the development of his best.”
Then he was going to marry. Nan’s heart stood still. She dropped the comb she was passing through her long hair, and buried her face in her hands for a moment.
She heard the doctor’s voice again. “He says he must thank you all for a very pleasant experience. He thinks Jack is such an original, and is greatly pleased with his study of her which he thinks is one of the best things he has done. He hopes to exhibit it with your permission. As for the sketch he made of Nan he keeps it for what it is, a mere sketch. He has enjoyed Nan, too, but in a different way.”
“In what way?” There was a little sharp ring in Mrs. Corner’s voice.
“Well, he says she is so responsive. He has liked to watch her thrill and glow under his music. He has liked to play upon her emotions, to see her eyes burn like stars, and a dawning light of woman’s perception come into her face. She is an interesting study, he says. He never met so young a girl who promised so much and he hopes he will see how she matures. He has played upon her emotions as he does upon his violin to see what tones he can bring forth, and”—the doctor paused, “I resented it.”
“You told him so? I wouldn’t have done that, Paul.” Mrs. Corner it was who said this.
“Oh, I simply told him he had no business to build up fanciful dream castles for Nan’s imagination to dwell in, that she has too much imagination as it is, and as a physician I forbade any more such nonsense, that he had no right to amuse himself with her temperamental growth.”
“And what did he say?”
“Oh, he laughed and promised not to ‘steep her soul in the magic of music any more’ as he put it, and that he wouldn’t ‘tear the pretty flower of her heart to pieces simply to classify it.’ You know the way he talks.”
“In a way that is very fetching to a romantic young woman,” sighed Miss Helen. “And is that the reason why he hasn’t been coming so often?”