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pressive。 A very different sort of mind was hers from that; for instance; of the sisters of St。 John。 Still; I liked her almost as I liked my pupil Adèle; except that; for a child whom we have watched over and taught; a closer affection is engendered than we can give an equally attractive adult acquaintance。
She had taken an amiable caprice to me。 She said I was like Mr。 Rivers; only; certainly; she allowed; “not one…tenth so handsome; though I was a nice neat little soul enough; but he was an angel。” I was; however; good; clever; posed; and firm; like him。 I was a lusus naturae; she affirmed; as a village schoolmistress: she was sure my previous history; if known; would make a delightful romance。
One evening; while; with her usual child…like activity; and thoughtless yet not offensive inquisitiveness; she was rummaging the cupboard and the table…drawer of my little kitchen; she discovered first two French books; a volume of Schiller; a German grammar and dictionary; and then my drawing…materials and some sketches; including a pencil…head of a pretty little cherub…like girl; one of my scholars; and sundry views from nature; taken in the Vale of Morton and on the surrounding moors。 She was first transfixed with surprise; and then electrified with delight。
“Had I done these pictures? Did I know French and German? What a love—what a miracle I was! I drew better than her master in the first school in S…。 Would I sketch a portrait of her; to show to papa?”
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