found secret, which he had no business to trouble me about.
"Why," said I—"why should you suppose that I dislike the place?"
"You told me so yourself," was the decisive reply. "You said, at least, that you could not live contentedly without a friend; and that you had no friend here, and no possibility of making one—and besides, I know you must dislike it."
"But, if you remember rightly," I said—or meant to say, I could not live contentedly without a friend in the world: I was not so unreasonable as to require one always near me. I think I could be happy in a house full of enemies if—" but no; that sentence must not be continued—I paused, and hastily added, "And besides, we cannot well leave a place where we have lived for two or three years, without some feeling of regret."
"Will you regret to part with Miss Murray. . .your sole remaining pupil and companion?
"I dare say I shall in some degree—it was not without sorrow I parted with her sister."
"I can imagine that."
