His reading--she had encouraged him in it for the sake of the
language and had herself helped him; now she was jealous of it and
could not be persuaded to get him new books; but he got them
nevertheless.
They had been in Calais for several months; he had masters and was
beginning to feel himself at home, when there arrived at the
pension a widow from one of the colonies, accompanied by her
daughter, a girl of thirteen.
The new comers had not appeared at meals for more than two days
before the young gentleman began to pay his court to the young
lady. From the first moment it was a plain case. Very soon every
one in the pension was highly amused to notice how fluent his
French was becoming; his choice of words at times was even
elegant! The girl taught him it without a trace of grammar, by
charm, sprightliness, a little nonsense; a pair of confiding eyes
and a youthful voice were sufficient. It was from her that he got,
by stealth, one novel after another. By stealth it had to be; by
stealth Lucie had procured them; by stealth she gave them to him;
by stealth they were read; by stealth she took them back again.
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