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？”