The more I saw, the less they would.
I began to watch them in a stifled suspense, a disguised
excitement that might well, had it continued too long,
have turned to something like madness. What saved me,
as I now see, was that it turned to something else altogether.
It didn't last as suspense--it was superseded by horrible proofs.
Proofs, I say, yes--from the moment I really took hold.
This moment dated from an afternoon hour that I happened
to spend in the grounds with the younger of my pupils alone.
We had left Miles indoors, on the red cushion of a deep
window seat; he had wished to finish a book, and I had been
glad to encourage a purpose so laudable in a young man whose
only defect was an occasional excess of the restless.
His sister, on the contrary, had been alert to come out,
and I strolled with her half an hour, seeking the shade,
for the sun was still high and the day exceptionally warm.
I was aware afresh, with her, as we went, of how,
like her brother, she contrived--it was the charming thing
in both children--to let me alone without appearing to drop
me and to accompany me without appearing to surround.
They were never importunate and yet never listless.
My attention to them all really went to seeing them amuse
themselves immensely without me: this was a spectacle they seemed
actively to prepare and that engaged me as an active admirer.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69