CHAPTER IV.


The summer afterwards Mr. Corbet came again to read with Mr. Ness. He
did not perceive any alteration in himself, and indeed his early-matured
character had hardly made progress during the last twelve months whatever
intellectual acquirements he might have made. Therefore it was
astonishing to him to see the alteration in Ellinor Wilkins. She had
shot up from a rather puny girl to a tall, slight young lady, with
promise of great beauty in the face, which a year ago had only been
remarkable for the fineness of the eyes. Her complexion was clear now,
although colourless--twelve months ago he would have called it sallow--her
delicate cheek was smooth as marble, her teeth were even and white, and
her rare smiles called out a lovely dimple.

She met her former friend and lecturer with a grave shyness, for she
remembered well how they had parted, and thought he could hardly have
forgiven, much less forgotten, her passionate flinging away from him. But
the truth was, after the first few hours of offended displeasure, he had
ceased to think of it at all. She, poor child, by way of proving her
repentance, had tried hard to reform her boisterous tom-boy manners, in
order to show him that, although she would not give up her dear old
friend Dixon, at his or anyone's bidding, she would strive to profit by
his lectures in all things reasonable. The consequence was, that she
suddenly appeared to him as an elegant dignified young lady, instead of
the rough little girl he remembered. Still below her somewhat formal
manners there lurked the old wild spirit, as he could plainly see after a
little more watching; and he began to wish to call this out, and to
strive, by reminding her of old days, and all her childish frolics, to
flavour her subdued manners and speech with a little of the former