'How could he? It wants a trained eye,' said Farrell, quite serious.
'Hush!—here she comes.'
Nelly came up breathlessly, laden with her own paraphernalia. Farrell at once perceived that she was pale and hollow-eyed. But her expression was radiant.
'How kind of you to come!' she said, looking up at him. 'You know I've had good news—splendid news?'
'I do indeed. I came to ask,' he said gravely. 'He's out of it for a bit?'
'Yes, for three weeks!'
'So you can take a rest from worrying?'
She nodded brightly, but she was not yet quite mistress of her nerves, and her face quivered. He turned away, and began to set his palette, while she seated herself.
Hester watched the lesson for half an hour, till it was time to go and make ready for her munition-workers. And she watched it with increasing pleasure, and increasing scorn of a certain recurrent uneasiness she had not been able to get rid of. Nothing could have been better than Farrell's manner to Ariadne. It was friendly, chivalrous, respectful—all it should be—with a note of protection, of unspoken sympathy, which, coming from a man nearly twenty years older than the little lady herself, was both natural and attractive. He made an excellent teacher besides, handling her efforts with a mixture of criticism and praise, which presently roused Nelly's ambition, and kindled her cheeks and eyes. Time flew and when Hester Martin rose to leave them, Nelly cried out in protest—'It can't be five o'clock!'
'A quarter to—just time to get home before my girls arrive!'
'Oh, and I must go too,' said Nelly regretfully. 'I promised Bridget I would be in for tea. But I was getting on—wasn't I?' She turned to Farrell.