‘ “If you were a woman you would school Monsieur, votre mari, charmingly; it would just suit you; schooling is your vocation.”

‘ “May I ask whether, in your present just and gentle mood, you mean to taunt me with being a tutor?”

‘ “Yes—bitterly, and with anything else you please—any defect of which you are painfully conscious.”

‘ “With being poor, for instance?”

‘ “Of course; that will sting you. You are sore about your poverty; you brood over that.”

‘ “With having nothing but a very plain person to offer the woman who may master my heart?”

‘ “Exactly. You have a habit of calling yourself plain. You are sensitive about the cut of your features because they are not quite on an Apollo pattern; you abuse them more than is needful, in the faint hope that others may say a word in their behalf, which won’t happen. Your face is nothing to boast of, certainly —not a pretty line nor a pretty tint to be found therein.”

‘ “Compare it with your own.”

‘ “It looks like a god of Egypt—a great sand-buried stone head—or, rather, I will compare it to nothing so lofty: it looks like Tartar. You are my mastiff’s cousin; I think you as much like him as a man can be like a dog.”

‘ “Tartar is your dear companion. In summer, when you rise early, and run out into the fields to wet your feet with the dew, and freshen your cheek and uncurl your hair with the breeze, you always call him to follow you; you call him sometimes with a whistle that you learned from me. In the solitude of your wood, when you think nobody but Tartar is listening, you whistle the very tunes you imitated from my lips, or sing the very songs you have caught up by ear from my voice. I do not ask whence flows the feeling which you pour into these songs, for I know it flows out of your heart, Miss Keeldar. In the winter evenings Tartar lies at your feet; you suffer him to rest his head on your perfumed lap; you let him couch on the borders of your satin raiment; his rough hide is familiar with the contact of your hand. I once saw you kiss him on that snow-white beauty-spot which stars his broad forehead. It is dangerous to say I am like Tartar; it suggests to me a claim to be treated like Tartar.”

‘ “Perhaps, sir, you can extort as much from your penniless and friendless young orphan-girl, when you find her.”

‘ “Oh, could I find her such as I image her!—something to tame first and teach afterwards, to break in, and then to fondle; to lift the destitute, proud thing out of poverty; to establish power over, and then to be indulgent to the capricious moods that never were influenced and never indulged before; to see her alternately irritated and subdued about twelve times in the twenty-four hours; and perhaps eventually, when her training was accomplished, to behold her the exemplary and patient mother of about a dozen children, only now and then lending little Louis a cordial cuff by way of paying the interest of the vast debt she owes his father. Oh,” I went on, “my orphan-girl would give me many a kiss; she would watch on the threshold for my coming home of an evening; she would run into my arms; should keep my hearth as bright as she would make it warm. God bless the sweet idea! Find her I must.”

‘Her eyes emitted an eager flash; her lips opened, but she reclosed them, and impetuously turned away.

‘ “Tell me—tell me where she is, Miss Keeldar.”

‘Another movement—all haughtiness, and fire, and impulse.

‘ “I must know. You can tell me. You shall tell me.”