"That's genius," said somebody behind them; "but what a subject to
waste it upon!"
"Very bad taste, I must say, to talk about such a thing here," said
somebody beside them. "However, one can excuse a great deal to beauty
like that."
Surrey sat still, and felt as though he were on fire, filled with an
insane desire to seize her in one arm like a knight of old, and hew his
way through these beings, and out of this place, into some solitary spot
where he could seat her and kneel at her feet, and die there if she
refused to take him up; filled with all the sweet, extravagant,
delicious pain that thrills the heart, full of passion and purity, of a
young man who begins to love the first, overwhelming, only love of a
lifetime.
CHAPTER IV
"_'Tis an old tale, and often told._"
SIR WALTER SCOTT
That evening some people who were near them were talking about it, and
that made Tom ask Clara if her friend was in the habit of doing
startling things.
"Should you think so to look at her now?" queried Clara, looking across
the room to where Miss Ercildoune stood.
"Indeed I shouldn't," Tom replied; and indeed no one would who saw her
then. "She's as sweet as a sugar-plum," he added, as he continued to
look. "What does she mean by getting off such rampant discourses? She
never wrote them herself,--don't tell _me_; at least somebody else put
her up to it,--that strong-minded-looking teacher over yonder, for
instance.
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