her there.  The first quarter of a year was drawing to a close when there occurred the first conversation between them.  Waymark had been giving some of the children their drawing-lesson, whilst the governess taught the two youngest.  The class-time being over, the youngsters all scampered off.  For a wonder, Mrs. Tootle was not present, anti Waymark seized the opportunity to exchange a word with the young lady.

“I fear your pupils give you dreadful trouble,” he said, as he stood by the window pointing a pencil.

She started at being spoken to.

“They are full of life,” she replied, in the low sad voice which was natural to her.

“Which would all seem to be directed towards shortening that of others,” said Waymark, with a smile.

“They are intelligent,” the governess ventured to suggest, after a silence.  “It would be a pleasure to teach them if they—­if they were a little more orderly.”

“Certainly.  If their parents had only common sense—­”

He stopped.  A flush had risen to the girl’s face, and a slight involuntary motion of her hand seemed to warn him.  The reason was that Mrs. Tootle stood in the doorway, to which he had his back turned.  Miss Enderby said a quick “good morning” and left him.

He was taking up some papers, preparatory to leaving the room, when he noticed that the governess had left behind her a little book in which she was accustomed to jot down lessons for the children.  He took it up and examined it.  On the first page was written “Maud Enderby, South Bank, Regent’s Park.”  He repeated the name to himself several times.  Then he smiled, recalling the way in which the governess had warned him that Mrs. Tootle could overhear what he said.  Somehow, this slight gesture of the girl’s had seemed to bring them closer to each other; there was an unpremeditated touch of intimacy in the movement, which it pleased him to think of.  This was by no means the first time that he had stood with thoughts busied about her, but the brief exchange of words and what had followed gave something of a new complexion to his feelings.  Previously he had been interested in her; her striking features had made him wonder what was the history which their expression concealed; but her extreme reticence and the timid coldness of her look had left his senses unmoved.  Now he all at once experienced the awakening of quite a new interest; there had been something in her eyes as they met his which seemed to desire sympathy; he was struck with the possibilities of emotion in the face which this one look had revealed to him.  Her situation seemed, when he thought of it, to affect him more strongly than hitherto; he felt that it would be more difficult henceforth to maintain his calmness when he saw her insulted by Mrs. Tootle or disrespectfully used by the children.