Left by herself, Miss de Sor turned back again by way of the trees.
So far, her interview with the drawing-master had helped to pass thetime. Some girls might have found it no easy task to arrive at atrue view of the character of Alban Morris. Francine's essentiallysuperficial observation set him down as "a little mad," and left himthere, judged and dismissed to her own entire satisfaction.
Arriving at the lawn, she discovered Emily pacing backward and forward,with her head down and her hands behind her, deep in thought. Francine'shigh opinion of herself would have carried her past any of the othergirls, unless they had made special advances to her. She stopped andlooked at Emily.
It is the sad fate of little women in general to grow too fat and to beborn with short legs. Emily's slim finely-strung figure spoke for itselfas to the first of these misfortunes, and asserted its happy freedomfrom the second, if she only walked across a room. Nature had built her,from head to foot, on a skeleton-scaffolding in perfect proportion. Tallor short matters little to the result, in women who possess the firstand foremost advantage of beginning well in their bones. When they liveto old age, they often astonish thoughtless men, who walk behind them inthe street. "I give you my honor, she was as easy and upright as ayoung girl; and when you got in front of her and looked--white hair, andseventy years of age."
Francine approached Emily, moved by a rare impulse in her nature--theimpulse to be sociable. "You look out of spirits," she began. "Surelyyou don't regret leaving school?"
In her present mood, Emily took the opportunity (in the popular phrase)of snubbing Francine. "You have guessed wrong; I do regret," sheanswered. "I have found in Cecilia my dearest friend at school. Andschool brought with it the change in my life which has helped me to bearthe loss of my father. If you must know what I was thinking of just now,I was thinking of my aunt. She has not answered my last letter--and I'mbeginning to be afraid she is ill."
"I'm very sorry," said Francine.
"Why? You don't know my aunt; and you have only known me since yesterdayafternoon. Why are you sorry?"
Francine remained silent. Without realizing it, she was beginning tofeel the dominant influence that Emily exercised over the weaker naturesthat came in contact with her. To find herself irresistibly attractedby a stranger at a new school--an unfortunate little creature, whosedestiny was to earn her own living--filled the narrow mind of Miss deSor with perplexity. Having waited in vain for a reply, Emily turnedaway, and resumed the train of thought which her schoolfellow hadinterrupted.