"I mean," Hetty went on, "that I hope he will think drawing a useful
study for me. Will you allow me to speak to him this evening, Miss
Davis?"
"Certainly, my dear," said Miss Davis stiffly. "There is nothing to
hinder you from consulting Mr. Enderby on any subject. I am sure he will
be kind enough to give you his advice. Only I think I know what it will
be beforehand; and I would rather you had shown more confidence in me."
Hetty could not give her mind to her lessons that day, nor get rid of
the feeling that she was in disgrace. When evening came, the hour when
Mr. Enderby was usually to be found in his study, she asked Miss Davis's
permission to go to him, and with her portfolio in her hand presented
herself at his door.
"Come in, Hetty," said Mr. Enderby; "what is this you have got to show
me? Maps, plans, or what? Why, drawings!"
Hetty's mouth grew dry, and her heart beat violently. The tone of his
voice betrayed that the master of Wavertree had no more sympathy for
art, or anything connected with it, than had Miss Davis. He was an
accurate methodical man with a taste for mathematics, who believed in
the power conferred by knowledge on man and woman; but who had little
respect for those who concerned themselves with only the beauties and
graces of life.
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