“No.”
“What do people do there?”
“Father says one man talks nonsense, and the other folk listen to him.”
“Your father is—no matter. Good heavens! what shall I do with this unhappy child?”
“Yes, sir, I am very unhappy,” said Alice, catching at the last words; and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
Maltravers never was more touched in his life. Whatever thoughts of gallantry might have entered his young head, had he found Alice such as he might reasonably have expected, he now felt that there was a kind of sanctity in her ignorance; and his gratitude and kindly sentiment towards her took almost a brotherly aspect.—“You know, at least, what school is?” he asked.
“Yes, I have talked with girls who go to school.”
“Would you like to go there, too?”
“Oh, no, sir, pray not!”
“What should you like to do, then? Speak out, child. I owe you so much, that I should be too happy to make you comfortable and contented in your own way.”