"Monsieur!" with which she swept away again, followed by the young man.
Caroline Spencer stood there with her eyes fixed upon the ground.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"The Countess, my cousin."
"And who is the young man?"
"Her pupil, Mr. Mixter."
This description of the relation between the two persons who had just left the room made me break into a little laugh. Miss Spencer looked at me gravely.
"She gives French lessons; she has lost her fortune."
"I see," I said. "She is determined to be a burden to no one. That is very proper."
Miss Spencer looked down on the ground again. "I must go and get the coffee," she said.
"Has the lady many pupils?" I asked.
"She has only Mr. Mixter. She gives all her time to him."
At this I could not laugh, though I smelt provocation; Miss Spencer was too grave. "He pays very well," she presently added, with simplicity. "He is very rich. He is very kind. He takes the Countess to drive." And she was turning away.
"You are going for the Countess's coffee?" I said.
"If you will excuse me a few moments."
"Is there no one else to do it?"
