“With Revitts?”
“Yes; was it not your lesson-night?”
“Yes,” I said; “but I thought perhaps you meant at Miss Carr’s!”
He dropped the file with which he had been at work and stared at me.
“Where did you say?” he exclaimed.
“Mr Lister sent me with a note to Miss Carr, and she kept me there all day.”
He drew in his breath with a hiss, caught up the file and went on working, while I chattered on, little thinking of the pain I was causing the poor fellow, as I rapturously praised Miss Carr and her home, and told him by degrees how I had spent the day.
I was too intent on my narration to pay much heed to Hallett’s face, though in fact I hardly saw it, he kept it so bent over his task, neither did I notice his silence; but at last, when it was ten o’clock, and I rose to go, he rose too, and I saw that he was rather paler than usual.
“Are you ill, Hallett?” I said anxiously. “How white you look.”
“Ill? oh no, Antony. I have been sitting too much over my model. You and I must have another run or two into the country, and put roses in our cheeks.”