This was a new view to take of it. Charlotte wavered, and really Lucile's influence was a little on the wane when the encounter with Aunt Caroline gave it new life. At school next day Charlotte came again under her spell.
Lucile was undeniably pretty and almost as grown up in appearance as Miss Alex, though only fifteen. She was intensely romantic, her own personal experiences at this early age would have supplied several novels, and her manner toward Charlotte was caressing and flattering. Charlotte was one of the few who understood her, she said. They were kindred souls.
Lucile wrote verses which seemed to Charlotte quite as good as Cousin Frank's, and she could sing any number of love-songs charmingly. The girls would gather about the piano at recess and beg her to sing. The favorite was one beginning:—
| "Teach, oh, teach me not to love thee! |
| Turn those beauteous eyes away," |
and Lucile always bent a soulful gaze upon Charlotte when she sang it. Charlotte wondered if her eyes were beauteous.
"When are you coming to see me Carlotta?" Lucile asked one day.
They were walking home from school, and had paused on the corner where their ways divided.
"I don't know. They don't like me to go out alone," was the answer, given with a flushed face.
"But the cars bring you almost to our door. I shall be terribly hurt."