"There are minds and natures so rich by their original constitution, that their own free growth is a fuller and better harvest than all the schoolmasters in the world can bring out of other people."
Again Faith's cheek was dyed. "I was poor enough," she said bowing her head for a moment. "I am poor now,—but I am studying."
In which last words lay perhaps the tiniest evidence of an intention not to be poor always. A suspicious glance of thought shot from the doctor's mind. But as it had happened more than once before, the simplicity of Faith's frankness misled him, and he dismissed suspicion.
"If you want an illustration of my meaning," he went on without change of manner, "permit me to remind you that your paragon of character,—the Rhododendron—does no studying. My conclusion is plain!"
"The Rhododendron does all it can."
"Well—" said the doctor,—"it is impossible to trace the limits of the influences of mignonette."
Faith looked grave. She was thinking how very powerless her influences had been.
"Don't you see that I have made out my position?"
"No."
"What sort of studying—may I ask it?—do you favour most?" he said with a smile.