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it on an occasion that seemed to me of small moment; namely; my weekly visit to Morton school; and still more was I puzzled when; if the day was unfavourable; if there was snow; or rain; or high wind; and his sisters urged me not to go; he would invariably make light of their solicitude; and encourage me to acplish the task without regard to the elements。
“Jane is not such a weakling as you would make her;” he would say: “she can bear a mountain blast; or a shower; or a few flakes of snow; as well as any of us。 Her constitution is both sound and elastic;—better calculated to endure variations of climate than many more robust。”
And when I returned; sometimes a good deal tired; and not a little weather…beaten; I never dared plain; because I saw that to murmur would be to vex him: on all occasions fortitude pleased him; the reverse was a special annoyance。
One afternoon; however; I got leave to stay at home; because I really had a cold。 His sisters were gone to Morton in my stead: I sat reading Schiller; he; deciphering his crabbed Oriental scrolls。 As I exchanged a translation for an exercise; I happened to look his way: there I found myself under the influence of the ever…watchful blue eye。 How long it had been searching me through and through; and over and over; I cannot tell: so keen was it; and yet so cold; I felt for the moment superstitious—as if I were sitting in the room with something uncanny。
“Jane; what are you doing?”
“Learning German。”
“I want you to give up German and learn Hindostanee。”
“You are not in earnest?”
“In such earnest that I must have it so: and I will tell you why。”
He then went on to explain that Hindostanee was the language he was himself at present studying; that; as he advanc