Yates shows Drusilla how to hold her pencil," said Flavilla,
becoming warmly earnest in her appreciation of this self-sacrificing
young man. "He often lays aside his own sketching and guides Drusilla's
hand while she holds the pencil----"
"And when I'm tired," said Drusilla, "and the water colors get into a
dreadful mess, Mr. Yates will drop his own work and come and talk to me
about art--and other things----"
"He is _so_ kind!" cried Flavilla in generous enthusiasm.
"And _so_ vitally interesting," said Drusilla.
"And so talented!" echoed Flavilla.
"And so--" Drusilla glanced up, beheld something in the fixed stare of
her parent that frightened her, and rose in confusion. "Have I said--
done--anything?" she faltered.
With an awful spasm Mr. Carr jerked his congested features into the
ghastly semblance of a smile.
"Not at all," he managed to say. "This is very interesting--what you tell
me about this p-pu--this talented young man. Does he--does he seem--
attracted toward you--unusually attracted?"
"Yes," said Drusilla, smiling reminiscently.
"How do you know?"
"Because he once said so."
"S-said--w-what?"
"Why, he said quite frankly that he thought me the most delightful girl
he had ever met."
"What--else?" Mr. Carr's voice was scarcely audible.
"Nothing," said Drusilla; "except that he said he cared for me very much
and wished to know whether I ever could care very much for him.
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