'
'What, you think me so mercenary, Genevieve?' said Gilbert.
'I only hope to see this school-boy logic well revenged!' said
Genevieve. 'Mrs. Price shall have locks of orange red, and for Mrs.
Gilbert Kendal--ah! we will content ourselves with her having a paler
shade--sandy gold.'
'No,' said Gilbert, speaking slowly, turning round his eyes. 'I
could tell you what Mrs. G. Kendal's hair will be--'
Genevieve let this drop, and said, 'You do not want me: good-bye,
Miss Sophie.'
'Going! why, you came to read to me, Genevieve,' exclaimed Sophy.
'Ah! I beg your pardon, I have been interrupting you all this time,'
cried Gilbert; 'I never meant to disturb you. Pray let me listen.'
And Genevieve read while Gilbert resumed his reclining attitude, with
half-closed eyes, listening to the sweet intonations and pretty
refined accent of the ancien regime.
Sophy enjoyed this exceedingly, she made it her especial occupation
to take care of Gilbert, and enter into his fireside amusements.
This indisposition had drawn the two nearer together, and essentially
unlike as they were, their two characters seemed to be fitting well
one into the other. His sentiment accorded with her strain of
romance, and they read poetry and had discussions as they sat over
the fire, growing constantly into greater intimacy and confidence.
Sophy waited on him, and watched him perpetually, and her assiduity
was imparting a softness and warmth quite new to her, while the
constant occupation kept affronts and vexations out of her sight, and
made her amiable.
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