"Thank you, but I will not detain you."
"I would read softly."
"It would not do. I am too feverish and excitable to bear a soft, cooing, vibrating voice close at my ear. You had better leave me."
"Well, I will go."
"And no good-night?"
"Yes, sir, yes, Mr. Moore, good-night." (Exit Shirley).
"Henry, my boy, go to bed now: it is time you had some repose."
"Sir, it would please me to watch at your bedside all night."
"Nothing less called for: I am getting better: there, go."
"Give me your blessing, sir."
"God bless you, my best pupil!"
"You never call me your dearest pupil!"
"No, nor ever shall."
Possibly Miss Keeldar resented her former teacher's rejection of her courtesy: it is certain she did not repeat the offer of it. Often as her light step traversed the gallery in the course of a day, it did not again pause at his door; nor did her "cooing, vibrating voice" disturb a second time the hush of the sick-room. A sick-room, indeed, it soon ceased to be; Mr. Moore's good constitution quickly triumphed over his indisposition: in a few days he shook it off, and resumed his duties as tutor.
