I thanked him; whether warmly or coldly, I cannot tell: but certain I am that I did not express half the gratitude I felt. It was foolish, perhaps, to feel any gratitude at all; but it seemed to me, at that moment, as if this were a remarkable instance of his good-nature: an act of kindness, which I could not repay, but never should forget: so utterly unaccustomed was I to receive such civilities, so little prepared to expect them from anyone within fifty miles of Horton Lodge. Yet this did not prevent me from feeling a little uncomfortable in his presence; and I proceeded to follow my pupils at a much quicker pace than before; though, perhaps, if Mr. Weston had taken the hint, and let me pass without another word, I might have repeated it an hour after: but he did not. A somewhat rapid walk for me was but an ordinary pace for him. “Your young ladies have left you alone,” said he. “Yes, they are occupied with more agreeable company.” “Then don’t trouble yourself to overtake them.” I slackened my pace; but next moment regretted having done so: my companion did not speak; and I had nothing in the world to say, and feared he might be in the same predicament. At length, however, he broke the pause by asking, with a certain quiet abruptness peculiar to himself, if I liked flowers. “Yes; very much,” I answered, “wild-flowers especially.” “_I_ like wild-flowers,” said he; “others I don’t care about, because I have no particular associations connected with them—except one or two. What are your favourite flowers?” “Primroses, bluebells, and heath-blossoms.” “Not violets?” “No; because, as you say, I have no particular associations connected with them; for there are no sweet violets among the hills and valleys round my home.” “It must be a great consolation to you to have a home, Miss Grey,” observed my companion after a short pause: “however remote, or however seldom visited, still it is something to look to.” “It is so much that I think I could not live without it,” replied I, with an enthusiasm of which I immediately repented; for I thought it must have sounded essentially silly.