Fan : The Story of a Young Girl's LifeHudson, W. H. (William Henry)
General
Fan : The Story of a Young Girl's Life
Hudson, W. H. (William Henry)
Fiction
She smiled without replying, but no reply was needed. He had been
studying her face, and knew that she was curious to hear what he had
to say, and this interest in Miss Starbrow, he thought, was a very new
feeling, and rose entirely out of her interest in himself.
He told her a great deal about the lady, without altogether omitting
her little eccentricities, as he leniently called them, and her
little faults of temper; he paid a tribute to her generous, hospitable
character, only she was, he thought, just a little too hospitable,
judging from the curious specimens one met at her Wednesday evening
gatherings. But he was very good-natured, and touched lightly on the
disagreeable features in the picture, or else kindly toned them down
with a few skilful touches, producing the impression on his listener
that he did not dislike Miss Starbrow, but regarded her with a kind of
amused curiosity. And that, in fact, was precisely the impression he
had wished to make, and he was well pleased with himself when he saw how
well he had succeeded.
Afterwards they spoke of other things, and soon came to those literary
topics in which Miss Churton took so keen an interest. They talked long
and earnestly, and Merton Chance neglected no opportunity of saying
pretty things with a subtle flattery in them at which the other was far
from being displeased.
“You draw your mental nutriment from a distance,” he said. “Being
without sympathy from those around you, you are like a person in a
diving-bell, shut in on all sides by a medium through which a current of
life-preserving oxygen comes, but dark and cold and infinitely repelling
to the spirit.”
It was true, and very pleasant to meet with appreciation. And finally,
before he left her, he had promised to send, and she had promised to
accept gratefully, some magazines containing contributions from his pen,
also some books which he wished her to read. But he did not say anything
about writing, he did not wish to show himself too eager to continue the
acquaintance which chance had brought about: in his own mind, however,
it was already settled that there was to be a correspondence.
CHAPTER XXIV
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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