"Any time," he said. "To-morrow, if you like," adding that he believed he, too, was to be always present.
Edith's eyes sought those of Arthur, reading there a reflection of her own secret thoughts, to wit, that THREE would he one too many, but they could not tell him so and Arthur responded at once, "Certainly, I shall expect you both, say to-morrow at ten o'clock; I am most at leisure then."
The next morning, at the appointed time, Richard and Edith appeared at Grassy Spring, where they found Arthur waiting for them, his portfolio upon the table, and his pencils lying near, ready to be used.
"I am afraid you'll find it tiresome, Mr. Harrington," he said, as he assigned his visitor a chair, and then went back to Edith.
"I shall do very well," answered Richard, and so he did for that lesson, and the next, and the next, but at last, in spite of his assertion to the contrary, he found it dull business going to Grassy Spring twice each week, and sitting alone with nothing to occupy his mind, except, indeed, to wonder how NEAR Arthur was to Edith, and if he bent over her as he remembered seeing drawing teachers do at school.
Richard was getting very tired of it—very weary of listening to Arthur's directions, and to Edith's merry laughs at her awkward blunders, and he was not sorry when one lesson-day, the fifth since they began, Grace Atherton's voice was heard in the hall without asking for admission. He had long since forgiven Grace for jilting him, and they were the best of friends; so when she suggested their going into the adjoining room, where it was pleasanter and she could play to him if he liked, he readily assented, and while listening to her lively conversation and fine playing, he forgot the lapse of time, and was surprised when Edith came to him with the news that it was 12 o'clock.
"Pray, don't go yet," said Arthur, who was loth to part with his pupil. "You surely do not dine till three, and I have already ordered lunch. Here it comes," and he pointed to the door where Phillis stood, bearing a huge silver salver, on which were wine and cake and fruit of various kinds.
"Grapes," screamed Edith, as she saw the rich purple clusters, which had been put up for winter use by poor, discarded Mrs. Johnson. "I really cannot go till I have some of them," and as there was no alternative Richard sat down to wait the little lady's pleasure.
He did not care for lunch, but joined in the conversation, which turned upon matrimony.
"It must be a very delightful state," said Edith, "provided one were well matched and loved her husband, as I am sure I should do."