Eyes, mouth, face, instinct with some
subtle and thrilling emotion. As gay Tom Russell looked, he
involuntarily stretched out his hand, as one would put it between
another and some danger of which that other is unaware, and remembered
what he had once said in talking of him,--"If Will Surrey's time does
come, I hope the girl will be all right in every way, for he'll plunge
headlong, and love like distraction itself,--no half-way; it will be a
life-and-death affair for him." "Come, I must break in on this."
"Surrey!"
"Yes."
"There's a pretty girl."
No answer.
"There! over yonder. Third seat, second row. See her? Pretty?"
"Very pretty."
"Miss--Miss--what's her name? O, Miss Perry played that last thing very
well for a school-girl, eh?"
"Very well."
"Admirable room this, for hearing; rare quality with chapels and halls;
architects in planning generally tax ingenuity how to confuse sound. Now
these girls don't make a great noise, yet you can distinguish every
word,--can't you?"
No response.
"I say, can't you?"
"Every word."
Tom drew a long breath.
"Professor Hale's a sensible old fellow; I like the way he conducts this
school." (Mem. Tom didn't know a thing about it.) "Carries it on
excellently." A pause.
Silence.
"Fine-looking, too. A man's physique has a deal to do with his success
in the world. If he carries a letter of recommendation in his face,
people take him on trust to begin with; and if he's a big fellow, like
the Professor yonder, he imposes on folks awfully; they pop down on
their knees to him, and clear the track for him, as if he had a right to
it all.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42