“Here is your governess, Herbert,” said Mary.
The little boy turned and surveyed me with his large, blue, mournful eyes. They sent a quiver through my frame from their strange resemblance to eyes I had seen but the night before in my dream.
He was apparently satisfied with his inspection, and his thin scarlet lips parted into a smile.
I called him to me. He came forward timidly.
Taking his small hand, I asked him a few questions about his studies. I found him intelligent, but grave beyond his years; very docile and obedient, and ere the end of the day we became excellent friends.
CHAPTER III
I had lived six weeks at Bristed Hall, and, excepting on my first arrival, had not interchanged a word with its master. ’Tis true I would see him at times from the school-room window, walking through his park, or smoking upon the long piazza, but he might have been across the ocean for all the intercourse we had together.
It was early June; roses bloomed on every hedge. A season of dry weather had succeeded the showers of spring, the mornings were sparkling, the air delicious. I arose early one particularly sunny morn, that I might take a walk, before the studies of the day commenced, to a natural lake which I had discovered about a mile from the Hall.
Herbert begged to accompany me, and I, who loved at times the quiet of my own thoughts, reluctantly granted his request.
We strolled out of the inclosure, and were leisurely wending our way over the road, when our attention was attracted by the sound of wheels emerging from a cross path. A carriage rolled briskly in view. The little hand of my companion, which I held locked in mine, trembled violently.