"Oh, thank you!" said Christian in a fervent voice.
"I take an immense interest in your career, Christian. You seem to me, after a fashion, to be left to me as a sort of legacy. I should like you to confide in me; I see plainly that you are unhappy."
Christian bent her head.
"Will you tell me all about it?"
The bent head was slightly shaken.
"You cannot?"
"I cannot."
"Noblesse oblige forbids?"
"Yes, yes; perhaps so. Anyhow, I cannot tell you. Don't notice me, please, Miss Peacock. Let me be happy during my short time with you."
"I want you to be happy, and in the best possible way, by removing the cause of your trouble; for I can see, and so can Jessie—and so, I fancy, can many of your companions—that you are not happy, Christian. I am about to write to your father, and I should like to be able to tell him with truth that his dear daughter feels at home with me, and is preparing for that noble womanhood which he has set his heart on her possessing."