"The room was too warm, Antony," she said in a quiet, composed way; and her pleasant smile was back upon her face as she returned to me. "Why, we were quite racing up and down the room. So you read German, do you? Come, you shall read a bit of Goethe to me." "I'm afraid--" "That you are not perfect, Antony?" she said, laughing in a bright, eager way. "Neither am I. We will both try and improve ourselves. Have you well mastered the old, crabby characters?" "Oh yes," I said, laughing. "My mother taught me them when I was very young." "Why, Antony," she cried, snatching the book from my hands at the end of half an hour; "you ought to be my master. But come, it is nearly dinner-time, and we must dress." "Dress?" I said, falling down from the seventh heaven to the level of Caroline Street, Pentonville, and bouncing back to the second floor. "Well," she said, smiling; "you would like to wash your hands." The rest of that evening was still more dreamlike than the day. I dined with Miss Carr, and afterwards she encouraged me to go on talking about myself, and present and past life. I amused her greatly about Revitts, and his efforts to improve his spelling; and she smiled and looked pained in turn, as I talked of Mary and my life at Mr Blakeford's. "I should like to know Mary," she said, laughing; "Mary must be a rough gem." "But she is so good at heart!" I cried earnestly, for I felt pained at the light way in which she spoke of poor Mary. "I am sure she is, Antony," said Miss Carr, looking at me very earnestly; and then I began to talk of Mr Hallett, and how kind and firm he had been. To my surprise, she stopped me, her voice sounding almost harsh as she said quietly: "You are learning through a rough school, Antony, and are fast losing your homelike ways, and childlike--well--innocence; but you are still very impressionable, and ready to take people for what they seem. Antony, my boy, you will make many enemies as well as friends. Count me always among the latter, and as your friend I now say to you, do not be too ready to make friendships with men. I should rather see you with a good companion of your own age." "Yes, Miss Carr," I said; "but if you knew Mr Hallett--" She held up her hand, and I stopped, for she seemed to turn pale and to look angry. "Antony," she said, as the tea was brought in, "you will soon have to go, now, and I have not written the answer to the letter you brought." "No, Miss Carr," I said; and I could have added, "neither have you read it." "It is too late, of course, for you to take an answer back, so I shall send one by post. Do not be alarmed," she said, smiling, as she divined my thoughts; "no one will be angry with you for staying here. It was my wish." "And your wish would be law with Mr Lister," I thought. "I shall expect you to write to me," she continued, "and set down any books you require. Do not be afraid to ask for them. I will either lend or buy them for you."