‘I was reared in Italy, Cousin Dick, and I have made a deep study of nature through French novels.’ Now there was a laughing devilry in her eye as she said this that terribly puzzled the young fellow, for just at the very moment her enthusiasm had begun to stir his breast, her merry mockery wafted it away as with a storm-wind. ‘I wish I knew if you were serious,’ said he gravely. ‘Just as serious as you were when you spoke of being ruined.’ ‘I was so, I pledge my honour. The conversation I reported to you really took place; and when you joined me, I was gravely deliberating with myself whether I should take a header into a deep pool or enlist as a soldier.’ ‘Fie, fie! how ignoble all that is. You don’t know the hundreds of thousands of things one can do in life. Do you speak French or Italian?’ ‘I can read them, but not freely; but how are they to help me?’ ‘You shall see: first of all, let me be your tutor. We shall take two hours, three if you like, every morning. Are you free now from all your college studies?’ ‘I can be after Wednesday next. I ought to go up for my term examination.’ ‘Well, do so; but mind, don’t bring down Mr. Atlee with you.’ ‘My chum is no favourite of yours?’ ‘That’s as it may be,’ said she haughtily. ‘I have only said let us not have the embarrassment, or, if you like it, the pleasure of his company. I’ll give you a list of books to bring down, and my life be on it, but _my_ course of study will surpass what you have been doing at Trinity. Is it agreed?’ ‘Give me till to-morrow to think of it, Nina.’ ‘That does not sound like a very warm acceptance; but be it so: till to-morrow.’ ‘Here are some of Kate’s dogs,’ cried he angrily. ‘Down, Fan, down! I say. I’ll leave you now before she joins us. Mind, not a word of what I told you.’ And, without another word, he sprang over a low fence, and speedily disappeared in the copse beyond it. ‘Wasn’t that Dick I saw making his escape?’ cried Kate, as she came up. ‘Yes, we were taking a walk together, and he left me very abruptly.’ ‘I wish I had not spoiled a _tête-à-tête_,’ said Kate merrily. ‘It is no great mischief: we can always renew it.’ ‘Dear Nina,’ said the other caressingly, as she drew her arm around her--‘dear, dear Nina, do not, do not, I beseech you.’ ‘Don’t what, child?--you must not speak in riddles.’ ‘Don’t make that poor boy in love with you. You yourself told me you could save him from it if you liked.’ ‘And so I shall, Kate, if you don’t dictate or order me. Leave me quite to myself, and I shall be most merciful.’ CHAPTER XVIII MATHEW KEARNEY’S ‘STUDY’