"
Mrs. Lecount's smooth cheeks colored with pleasure. The one assailable
place in that cold and secret nature was the place occupied by the
memory of the Professor. Her pride in his scientific achievements,
and her mortification at finding them but little known out of his own
country, were genuine feelings. Never had Captain Wragge burned his
adulterated incense on the flimsy altar of human vanity to better
purpose than he was burning it now.
"You are very good, sir," said Mrs. Lecount. "In honoring my husband's
memory, you honor me. But though you kindly treat me on a footing of
equality, I must not forget that I fill a domestic situation. I shall
feel it a privilege to show you my relics, if you will allow me to ask
my master's permission first."
She turned to Noel Vanstone; her perfectly sincere intention of making
the proposed request, mingling--in that strange complexity of motives
which is found so much oftener in a woman's mind than in a man's--with
her jealous distrust of the impression which Magdalen had produced on
her master.
"May I make a request, sir?" asked Mrs. Lecount, after waiting a moment
to catch any fragments of tenderly-personal talk that might reach
her, and after being again neatly baffled by Magdalen--thanks to
the camp-stool.
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