Her nature expanded in his
society, and she could talk to him as she talked to no one else.
He used to wonder at her eloquence sometimes, as the beautiful face glowed,
and the dark hazel eyes brightened; he wondered not a little also at the
extent of her reading, which had been wide and varied during that quiet
winter and spring-time at Mill Cottage.
"What a learned lady you are!" he said, smiling at her enthusiasm one day,
when they had been talking of Italy and Dante; "your close knowledge of the
poet puts my poor smattering to shame. Happily, an idler and a worldling
like myself is not supposed to know much. I was never patient enough to be
a profound reader; and if I cannot tear the heart out of a book, I am apt
to throw it aside in disgust. But you must have read a great deal; and yet
when we met, less than a year ago, you confessed to being only a schoolgirl
fresh from grinding away at Corneille and Racine."
"I have had the advantage of papa's help since then," answered Clarissa,
"and he is very clever. He does not read many authors, but those he does
care for he reads with all his heart. He taught me to appreciate Dante, and
to make myself familiar with the history of his age, in order to understand
him better."
"Very wise of him, no doubt. And that kind of studious life with your papa
is very pleasant to you, I suppose, Miss Lovel?"
"Yes," she answered thoughtfully; "I have been quite happy with papa.
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