St. Elmo - Page 155/379

Fair, rosy, with a complexion fresh as a child's, and a face faultless in contour, as that of a Greek goddess, it was impossible to resist the fascination which she exerted over all who looked upon her. Her waving yellow hair flashed in the morning sunshine, and as she raised one hand to shade her large, clear, blue eyes, her open sleeve fell back, disclosing an arm dazzlingly white and exquisitely moulded. As Mr. Hammond introduced his pupil to his guests, Mrs. Powell smiled pleasantly, and pressed the offered hand; but the eyes, blue and cold as the stalactites of Capri, scanned the orphan's countenance, and when Edna had seen fully into their depths, she could not avoid recalling Heine's poem of Loreley.

"My daughter Gertrude promises herself much pleasure in your society, Miss Earl; for uncle's praises prepare her to expect a most charming companion. She is about your age, but I fear you will find great disparity in her attainments, as she has not been so fortunate as to receive her education from Uncle Allan. You are, I believe, an adopted daughter of Mrs. Murray?"

"No, madam; only a resident in her house until my education is pronounced sufficiently advanced to justify my teaching."

"I have a friend, Miss Harding, who has recently removed to Le Bocage, and intends making it her home. How is she?"

"Quite well, I believe."

Mr. Hammond left the study for a moment, and Mrs. Powell added: "Her friends at the North tell me that she is to marry her cousin, Mr. Murray, very soon."

"I had not heard the report."

"Then you think there are no grounds for the rumor?"

"Indeed, madam, I know nothing whatever concerning the matter."

"Estelle is handsome and brilliant."

Edna made no reply; and, after waiting a few seconds, Mrs. Powell asked: "Does Mr. Murray go much into society now?"

"I believe not."

"Is he as handsome as ever?"

"I do not know when you saw him last, but the ladies here seem rather to dread than admire him. Mrs. Powell, you are dipping your sleeve in your uncle's inkstand."

She by no means relished this catechism, and resolved to end it. Picking up her books, she said to Mr. Hammond, who now stood in the door: "I presume I need not wait, as you will be too much occupied to-day to attend to my lessons."

"Yes; I must give you holiday until Monday."

"Miss Earl, may I trouble you to hand this letter to Miss Harding? It was entrusted to my care by one of her friends in New York. Pray be so good as to deliver it, with my kindest regards."