than handsome; that her successor was of a different
type appeared sufficiently from the fair round head,
the gracefully handed neck, the perfect shoulders,
the slight, beautiful form. Waymark took his
place and waited with some curiosity till she moved.
When she did so, and, rising, suddenly became aware
of his presence, there was a little start on both
sides; Miss Enderby—so Waymark soon heard
her called by the pupils—had not been aware,
owing to the noise, of a stranger’s entrance,
and Waymark on his side was so struck with the face
presented to him. He had expected, at the most,
a pretty girl of the commonplace kind: he saw
a countenance in which refinement was as conspicuous
as beauty. She was probably not more than eighteen
or nineteen. In speaking with the children she
rarely if ever smiled, but exhibited a gentle forbearance
which had something touching in it; it was almost as
though she appealed for gentleness in return, and feared
a harsh word or look.
“That’s Mr. Waymark,” cried out
Master Percy Tootle, when his overquick eyes perceived
that the two had seen each other. “He’s
our drawing-master. Do you like the look of him?”
Miss Enderby reddened, and laid her hand on the boy’s
arm, trying to direct his attention to a book.
But the youngster shook off her gentle touch, and
looked at his brothers and sisters with a much too
knowing grin. Waymark had contented himself with
a slight bow, and at once bent again over his work.
Very shortly the two eldest children, both girls,
came in, and with them their mother. The latter
paid no attention to Waymark, but proceeded to cross-examine
the new governess as to her methods of teaching, her
experience, and so on, in the coarse and loud manner
which characterised Mrs. Tootle.
“You’ll find my children clever,”
said Mrs. Tootle, “at least, that has been the
opinion of all their teachers hitherto. If they
don’t make progress, it certainly will not be
their own fault. At the same time, they are high-spirited,
and require to be discreetly managed. This, as
I previously informed you, must be done without the
help of punishment in any shape; I disapprove of those
methods altogether. Now let me hear you give
them a lesson in geography.”
Waymark retired at this juncture; he felt that it
would be nothing less than cruelty to remain.
The episode, however, had lightened his day with an
interest of a very unusual kind. And so it was
that, on the following morning, not only the gleam
of watery sunshine, but also the thought of an hour
to be spent in the presence of that timid face, brought
him on his way to the school with an unwonted resignation.
Unfortunately his drawing lessons were only given on
two mornings in the week. Still, there would be
something in future to look forward to, a novel sensation
at The Academy.
THE COUSINS
