“That is just as it should be,” said Mr. Clyde. “People care very little for things which they are continually talking about. When a woman pretends to be in love, one can easily judge by her nonsensical prattle, as to the quality of her affections, though it takes some time to find it out.”
As he said this, there was the same expression to his countenance, which Hesper disliked so much, she felt uncomfortable, and hastened to get out of the room, but just as she was crossing the threshold, he called her back.
“Miss Hesper,” he said, “your brother informs me that he cannot be with me to-day; allow me therefore to ask the favor of a book, to wile away my time with.”
“I have only one that I think will interest you,” said Hesper, thoughtfully—“and that is ‘Brothers and Sisters,’ by Miss Bremer. Did you ever read it?”
“No,” he replied. “Please bring it, for I don’t care what it is, if it will only take up my mind.” She brought the book directly, for which he thanked her very courteously, and placed himself in a position to read. About half an hour afterwards, however, when she went in to give him his medicine, she found him lying there with the volume closed, in his hand.
“Don’t you find the book interesting?” she asked, timidly.
“Yes,” he replied, “but my head is weak, and my eyes get tired so soon, that I find an attempt to read is useless.”
Hesper turned quickly, as though she would speak, but she checked herself, and again proceeded towards the door. He had observed her movement however, and called after her.
“Hesper,” he said, “what was you about to remark?”
“Only sir,” she replied very meekly, “that if you wished, I would gladly read to you, as I am at leisure at present. But then I feared you would think me too officious.”