Free Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 14 by Behind a Mask (v1.1)

by no lady whom he
met in society. Did you ever hear anything of it, Ned?" asked Gerald.
                            
"I'm not fond of scandal or gossip, and never listen to either." With
which remark Edward left the room.
                            
Lucia was called out by the housekeeper a moment after, and Coventry left to the society most wearisome to him,
namely his own. As he entered, he had caught a part of the story which Miss
Muir had been telling, and it had excited his curiosity so much that he found
himself wondering what the end could be and wishing that he might hear it.
                            
What the deuce did she run away for, when I came in? he thought. If she is amusing, she must
make herself useful; for it's intensely dull, I own,
here, in spite of Lucia. Hey, what's that?
                            
It was a rich, sweet voice, singing a brilliant Italian air, and singing it
with an expression that made the music doubly delicious. Stepping out of the
French window, Coventry strolled along the sunny terrace, enjoying the song with the relish of
a connoisseur. Others followed, and still he walked and listened, forgetful of
weariness or tune. As one exquisite air ended, he involuntarily applauded. Miss
Muir's face appeared for an instant, then vanished, and no more music followed,
though Coventry lingered, hoping to hear the voice again.
For music was the one thing of which he never wearied, and neither Lucia nor
Bella possessed skill enough to charm him. For an hour he loitered on the
terrace or the lawn, basking in the sunshine, too indolent to seek occupation
or society. At length Bella came out, hat in hand, and nearly stumbled over her
brother, who lay on the grass.
                            
"You lazy man, have you been dawdling here all this time?" she said,
looking down at him.
                            
"No, I've been very busy. Come and tell me how you've got on with the
little dragon."
                             "Can't stop. She bade me take a run after my
French, so that I might be ready for my drawing, and so I must."
                            
"It's too warm to run. Sit down and amuse your deserted brother, who has
had no society but bees and lizards for an hour."
                            
He drew her down as he spoke, and Bella obeyed; for, in spite of his indolence,
he was one to whom all submitted without dreaming of
refusal.
                            
"What have you been doing? Muddling your poor little brains with all
manner of elegant rubbish?"
                            
"No, I've been enjoying myself immensely. Jean is so interesting, so kind and clever. She didn't bore me with stupid
grammar, but just talked to me in such pretty French that I got on capitally,
and like it as I never expected to, after Lucia's dull way of teaching
it."
                            
"What did you talk about?"
                             "Oh, all manner of things. She asked questions,
and I answered, and she corrected me."
                            
"Questions about our affairs, I suppose?"
                            
"Not one. She don't care two sous for us or our
affairs. I thought she might like to know what sort of people we were, so I
told her about Papa's sudden death, Uncle John, and you, and Ned; but in the
midst of it she said, in her quiet way, 'You are getting too confidential, my
dear. It is not best to talk too freely of one's affairs to strangers. Let us
speak of something else.'"
                            
"What were you talking of when she said that, Bell ?"
                             "You."
                            
"Ah,