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They took a house in Chester Street, and often dined with the Ardaghs in Eaton Square. At one of these dinners Jenny Levita was present. Mark, remembering what Catherine had told him about her in Surrey, looked at her with some interest, and talked to her a little in his most light-hearted way.
Catherine was not sorry. She took off her fur coat and sat down. "What are you and my mother reading, Miss Levita?" she asked. Jenny told her. "Is it interesting?" "I suppose it ought to be," Jenny answered, thoughtlessly. Then a flush ran over her thin cheeks, on which there were a great many little freckles. "I mean that it is very interesting," she added. "Your mother will tell you so, Mrs.
Luther did not stay long in Rome, but he took the opportunity of learning Hebrew, and attended the lectures of the Jew Elia Levi ben Asher, surnamed Bachur or Elias Levita. There he met Cardinal Viterbo, the patron of the Jews, and many other celebrities, for Oriental languages were then in fashion after the Turks had established themselves in Constantinople.
Ardagh had found the emptiness of her childless life insupportable, and she had, therefore, engaged a young girl, called Jenny Levita, to come to her every day as companion. Jenny was intelligent and very poor, bookish and earnest, even ardent in nature. Mrs.
Mark Sirrett was light-hearted, gay, and the kindest, most thoughtful husband in the world. When they came back to London, Catherine went at once to see her mother. Mr. Ardagh had gone to the Riviera and Catherine found Mrs. Ardagh quite alone in the big house in Eaton Square. "Why, where is Jenny Levita?" she asked. Mrs. Ardagh made no reply for a moment.
"Only when dull people write about it, surely," said Catherine. "I don't know," Jenny said, twisting her black stuff dress with nervous fingers. "I often think that in the books of the cleverest authors there are dull moments, and that those dull moments are nearly always when the good, the really excellent, characters are being written about." "And in real life, Miss Levita?" asked Catherine.
Ardagh, in her fervid, and yet dreary, voice. "Slightly." "Then tell him of the dreadful harm he has done." "What harm?" Mrs. Ardagh spoke of Jenny Levita. It seemed that she had now fallen into an evil way of life. "But why should you attribute the folly of a weak girl to William Foster's influence?" said Berrand. "Her soul was trembling in the balance," said Mrs.
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