His domestic
expenses made no heavy demand on his purse; his German wife (whose
Christian name was now borne by his daughter) had died long since; his
sons were no burden on him; they had never lived at the mill in my
remembrance. With all these reasons against his taking a stranger into
his house, he had nevertheless, if my interpretation of Cristel's answer
was the right one, let his spare rooms to a lodger. "Mr. Toller can't
possibly be in want of money," I said.
"The more money father has, the more he wants. That's the reason," she
added bitterly, "why he asked for plenty of room when the cottage was
built, and why we have got a lodger."
"Is the lodger a gentleman?"
"I don't know. Is a man a gentleman, if he keeps a servant? Oh, don't
trouble to think about it, sir! It isn't worth thinking about."
This was plain speaking at last. "You don't seem to like the lodger," I
said.
"I hate him!"
"Why?"
She turned on me with a look of angry amazement--not undeserved, I must
own, on my part--which showed her dark beauty in the perfection of its
luster and its power. To my eyes she was at the moment irresistibly
charming. I daresay I was blind to the defects in her face. My good
German tutor used to lament that there was too much of my boyhood still
left in me. Honestly admiring her, I let my favorable opinion express
itself a little too plainly. "What a splendid creature you are!" I burst
out.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35