Villette | Page 7

finding this could
not be done without some climbing and straining--a sacrifice of
decorum not to be thought of--and being utterly disdainful of aid in the
presence of a strange young gentleman, she relinquished the high chair
for a low stool: towards that low stool Graham drew in his chair.
"I hope, ma'am, the present residence, my mother's house, appears to
you a convenient place of abode?"
"Not par-tic-er-er-ly; I want to go home."
"A natural and laudable desire, ma'am; but one which, notwithstanding,
I shall do my best to oppose. I reckon on being able to get out of you a
little of that precious commodity called amusement, which mamma and
Mistress Snowe there fail to yield me."
"I shall have to go with papa soon: I shall not stay long at your

mother's."
"Yes, yes; you will stay with me, I am sure. I have a pony on which
you shall ride, and no end of books with pictures to show you."
"Are you going to live here now?"
"I am. Does that please you? Do you like me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"I think you queer."
"My face, ma'am?"
"Your face and all about you: You have long red hair."
"Auburn hair, if you please: mamma, calls it auburn, or golden, and so
do all her friends. But even with my 'long red hair'" (and he waved his
mane with a sort of triumph--tawny he himself well knew that it was,
and he was proud of the leonine hue), "I cannot possibly be queerer
than is your ladyship."
"You call me queer?"
"Certainly."
(After a pause), "I think I shall go to bed."
"A little thing like you ought to have been in bed many hours since; but
you probably sat up in the expectation of seeing me?"
"No, indeed."
"You certainly wished to enjoy the pleasure of my society. You knew I
was coming home, and would wait to have a look at me."

"I sat up for papa, and not for you."
"Very good, Miss Home. I am going to be a favourite: preferred before
papa soon, I daresay."
She wished Mrs. Bretton and myself good-night; she seemed hesitating
whether Graham's deserts entitled him to the same attention, when he
caught her up with one hand, and with that one hand held her poised
aloft above his head. She saw herself thus lifted up on high, in the glass
over the fireplace. The suddenness, the freedom, the disrespect of the
action were too much.
"For shame, Mr. Graham!" was her indignant cry, "put me down!"--and
when again on her feet, "I wonder what you would think of me if I were
to treat you in that way, lifting you with my hand" (raising that mighty
member) "as Warren lifts the little cat."
So saying, she departed.

CHAPTER III.
THE PLAYMATES.
Mr. Home stayed two days. During his visit he could not be prevailed
on to go out: he sat all day long by the fireside, sometimes silent,
sometimes receiving and answering Mrs. Bretton's chat, which was just
of the proper sort for a man in his morbid mood--not over-sympathetic,
yet not too uncongenial, sensible; and even with a touch of the
motherly--she was sufficiently his senior to be permitted this touch.
As to Paulina, the child was at once happy and mute, busy and watchful.
Her father frequently lifted her to his knee; she would sit there till she
felt or fancied he grew restless; then it was--"Papa, put me down; I
shall tire you with my weight."
And the mighty burden slid to the rug, and establishing itself on carpet
or stool just at "papa's" feet, the white work-box and the

scarlet-speckled handkerchief came into play. This handkerchief, it
seems, was intended as a keepsake for "papa," and must be finished
before his departure; consequently the demand on the sempstress's
industry (she accomplished about a score of stitches in half-an-hour)
was stringent.
The evening, by restoring Graham to the maternal roof (his days were
passed at school), brought us an accession of animation--a quality not
diminished by the nature of the scenes pretty sure to be enacted
between him and Miss Paulina.
A distant and haughty demeanour had been the result of the indignity
put upon her the first evening of his arrival: her usual answer, when he
addressed her, was--"I can't attend to you; I have other things to think
about." Being implored to state what things:
"Business."
Graham would endeavour to seduce her attention by opening his desk
and displaying its multifarious contents: seals, bright sticks of wax,
pen-knives, with a miscellany of engravings--some of them gaily
coloured--which he had amassed from time to time. Nor was this
powerful temptation wholly unavailing: her eyes, furtively raised from
her work, cast many a peep towards the writing-table,