It was very pleasant to know that one word from her could influence the life of this great unknown genius; very pleasant to believe that she was loved so dearly, so entirely, that even an emperor could not take the man who worshiped her from her side.  It seems weak that she should so easily believe.  Insight gives one a false estimate of her character; but there are many things to be considered before judging her.  She was romantic in the highest degree; she was all idealty and poetry.  She had no idea of the realities of life; she had the vaguest possible idea that there was wickedness in the world, but that ever deceit or treachery should come near her was an idea that never entered her romantic mind.  She was too old to be at school; had her mother been living, she would have been removed from there.  She would have had friends and admirers, her love and affection would have found proper objects, and the great calamity of her life would have been averted.  Heaven help and guide any foolish, romantic girl left without the guidance of mother or friend!

She thought nothing of the impropriety of meeting the young artist unknown to any one.  She remembered only the romance of it—­a genius, a handsome young genius was dying for love of her, for her sake; he was going away, to leave home, friends and country, going to die in exile, simply for love of her; to lay down all the brilliant hopes of his life, to give up all his dreams, all his plans, because he found her so fair he could no longer live in her presence.  Before she made any further remark she began to think whether any of her favorite heroines had ever been in this delightful situation, and how it was best to behave with a genius dying for her.  She could not remember, but she knew there were innumerable instances of queens having loved their subjects—­to wit, the stately Elizabeth and Essex.  She, in the eyes of this poor artist and his sister, was a queen—­it would not hurt her to stoop from her high estate.  She turned her fair, troubled face to the astute woman by her side.

“Even if I could do him any good by seeing him,” she said, “how could it be managed?”

Miss Lyster’s stare of admiration was something wonderful to see.  “Would you be so noble, so generous?  Oh, Miss Arleigh, you will save my life and his!  Would you really see him, and tell him he had better stay?  How good you are!  Do you know, I could kneel here at your feet to thank you.  If you are willing, I can make all arrangements—­I only needed your consent.”

The excitement was a pleasant break in the monotony of school life.  How little did Marion understand those with whom she had to deal!  She had promised to grant this interview as something of a condescension.  Miss Lyster managed her so skilfully that before it took place she had learned to long for it.

The farce of Allan’s illness was kept up.  For two days the pupils were deprived of their lessons through the indisposition of their master.