Part 15 (1/2)

”You must; you will be obliged to meet her sooner or later, so come now.”

Paul arose, and wiping the tears away, followed Scott to the parlor, where he was presented to the bride. She received him with an air of hauteur, though not unkindly. Paul knew that she meant to make him feel his inferior position, but was by no means embarra.s.sed.

He bowed with such an easy grace that Irene wondered where the boy who acted in a menial capacity had received his instructions, he was so self-possessed in the presence of strangers. Though she felt the least bit annoyed that he did not feel intimidated in her presence, she could but admire his cla.s.sical features and lovely eyes.

She remarked to Scott some time later that there was something about the boy that she could not ”quite understand.” Often she would look up to find his searching gaze fastened upon her, as though he would read her very thoughts, and, boy though he was, he was capable of making her very uncomfortable.

”I cannot think,” Irene said one day to Scott, ”what the boy can be thinking of sometimes, when he looks at me with those great dreamy eyes; and once, when I asked him what he was thinking of, he answered coolly, that he did not care to tell. Just to think of his answering me that way! I had a half mind to box his ears.”

”I hardly think that would be advisable,” Scott answered, closing his lips in a manner that told plainly that he meant what he said.

Irene soon began to learn Scott's nature, and she saw that whatever opposition she made to his will must be done in secret; and though he was ever kind and gentle, she knew that he would adhere strictly to the right, whoever the opposing party might be. There had been a slight misunderstanding between Irene and Paul in the library--at least, that was what she called it. She entered one day and found Paul poring over a book of poems.

”Why, Paul,” she said, ”you seem to spend a great deal of time here; you have permission, I suppose?”

The boy's crimson lip curled scornfully.

”Certainly, I have; if I had not I should not be here.”

”Does your master pay you for studying?”

”My work is always done before I come here; for that I am paid, and my employer, not my master, has very kindly allowed me the privilege of using the library. As for a master, I am neither a dog nor a slave.”

”You are very insolent, at least.”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Does your master pay you for studying?”]

The boy's face grew crimson as he said:

”If I am not wanted here I can stay away.”

”It would be much pleasanter for me if you would do so. I, myself, am a great reader of poetry, and this seems to be the most appropriate place to read, and I prefer to be alone.”

”I am very sorry that I have been in your way, and I will try in future not to trouble you,” Paul said, as, with a low bow, he left the room.

Irene fairly trembled with rage as she saw Paul bowing with as much politeness and composure as though he really were her equal.

”To think,” she said, ”that he dare to look me straight in the eye as though he were reading my very thoughts; just as though he were as good as I am! I will make him learn his place, if Scott cannot; or rather, will not.”

In the hall Paul met June, who came bounding along, dressed in the most becoming blue muslin, trimmed with lace, and her golden hair tied with a blue ribbon and falling to her waist in a most bewitching fas.h.i.+on.

”Come, Paul! Scott says you can drive me out in the phaeton, if you will,” she said, approaching him.

Irene entered the doorway just in time to see Paul playfully pinch June's pink cheek and to hear him say:

”How sweet you look, June!”

”Why, June,” said Irene, ”do you ride with your brother's hired help?”

”I ride with Paul.”