But of the thoughts which had been passing through Henry Halford's mind during that short interview Mary Armstrong was quite unsuspecting; neither had she the least idea that he stood at the open door watching her for some minutes, to Freddy's surprise, and until a movement of the child recalled him to the duties of the hour.
Hastily taking Freddy to the schoolroom and telling his father the child's name, he brought his mind to bear upon the duties of his class with his usual power of concentration. No sooner, however, had morning school closed than he retired to his own little sanctum, but not to his usual studies. A new object of study was occupying his mind, and he threw himself into his chair, and folding his arms, thought over again his adventure of the morning. How clearly every movement, every look, even every article of dress worn by the visitor was photographed on his memory! He could see again the tall graceful figure, the fair expressive face, the large blue eyes, the bright auburn hair, one or two locks as usual escaping under the hat.
He recalled the blush which added brilliance to the face, and knew that in action, word, and movement the young girl before him was a true gentlewoman. Even the dress, so suitable to the season and the hour, showed this--warm and dark and soft, only brightened by an ermine muff and furs, and red ribbons in the hat. And the boy too, young as he was, had more of the _savoir faire_ about him than many of the sons of rich merchants who attended the school, and yet the father of these young people was a tradesman. Henry Halford was puzzled. He had been brought up with the foolish prejudice against trade then so prevalent. Both his parents had been well born and were well connected. His father's sister had married into a good family, although, like many of these old families, they had little to boast of in the way of money. And then the young student grew bewildered. Hitherto his books had so occupied every thought that any idea of falling in love had never entered his mind. Perhaps he had too much poetry and imagination in his heart connected with the subject of marriage to allow him to do so easily. In him there existed a refined and spiritualised sense of what a woman should be in the different phases of her existence, as daughter, sister, wife, and mother. Marriage to him was too holy, and the pure love of a woman too ethereal, for either to be trifled with, or made the means of merely obtaining a home or a settlement.