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She shivered. "And I'm very fond of them, only," she added as she followed him to the door, "I never know whether they want to eat me up or caress me." "American, your honour." CHAPTER XI EDUCATING THE NEW BOY.

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"May I have the great honour of showing you the cabin, Miss?" said Mr Lawrence. "Good-bye, Sir William," said Lucy, and in silence the two gentlemen watched her walk to the gate and pass out. If he doubted her insanity at all his suspicion had no stiffer ground than the shallow sand on which reposed his hope[Pg 327] that she was acting. Throughout this passage he did not think to consider her as the child of a great actress. To him she had always been a gentle, sweet, undemonstrative girl, ingenuous in speech, kind, charitable, beloved by the poor, one whose pursuits were amiable and pure. She was nimble and poetical with her pencil. She sang pretty songs prettily. Her beauty informed with a colour of its own the melodies her fingers evoked from the keys or strings of the instruments she touched. He could not think of her as having the talents of an actress, or even the tastes of one. He had never heard of her taking a part in a performance above a charade. Nothing, therefore, but madness or an extraordinary dramatic genius which it was impossible for him to think of her as possessing, could create those parts which she had enacted before him in a manner so immoderately life-like, so absolutely in unison with what he himself could conceive of the behaviour of madness, that deep in his soul might be found the conviction that she had lost her reason, and that his passionate, unprincipled love was the cause of it. "Bill," Anson's voice was husky with terror. "You won't let him touch me, will you, Bill?".