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Merci, we have our own Professor Tonks. Not that I would compare David, who was a first-rate practitioner and something of an artist, with the great Agrippa of the Slade. But from David even we have little or nothing to learn. For one thing, art cannot be taught; for another, if it could be, a dry doctrinaire is not the man to teach it.
It was, perhaps, because of the invaluable nature of Miss Tonks' services that she had received no remuneration whatever from her employer for the last three or four years. Mrs. Vincent might have hesitated to pay from very contempt for the pitiful nature of the stipend as compared with the merits of the teacher. "Is there anything else that Tonks or I can tell you, Mr.
"Oh, no!" replied Miss Tonks, with a chilling accent, "you never said she was useful. She was only ornamental; a person to be shown off to visitors, and to play fantasias on the drawing-room piano." "Then you can give me no clew to Miss Graham's previous history?" Robert asked, looking from the schoolmistress to her teacher.
Wilson Steer, Tonks, Professor Brown passed, and no more, across the stage of our Thursday nights, all three, as I remember them, scrupulous in upholding the reputation for silence of their Club. Conder flitted in and out of our rooms, always agreeable but not the man to lift up his voice in a crowd.
But Miss Tonks appeared to know nothing whatever; except that Miss Graham had sometimes declared herself an ill-used creature, deceived by the baseness of mankind, and the victim of unmerited sufferings, in the way of poverty and deprivation.
Audley?" asked the schoolmistress. "Tonks has a far better memory than I have." "Can you tell me where Miss Graham came from when she entered your household?" Robert inquired. "Not very precisely," answered Mrs. Vincent. "I have a vague notion that Miss Graham said something about coming from the seaside, but she didn't say where, or if she did I have forgotten it.
As I lifted my hand from her and she glided into the blackness, I felt in my heart that the last link with the old life was broken. Then, as I rose to my feet, a hand was placed on my arm, and I tingled in every fibre at this sweet link with the new life. I had found Mistress Tonks in her little back room, where she manufactured marry-me-quick by day and slept by night.
'Sivin an' a quarter minutes of a round, said the master of the ceremonies; 'an' a pretty bit o' fightin. Theed'st best get ready, turning to Paul. 'The little un's pumped. He'll ask for a second helpin', but that'll finish him. The prophecy was realized, and Paul found himself in a brief space of time standing hand in hand with Master Tonks, and looking him squarely in the eye.
"Will you be so good as to let me have a little water and a piece of sponge?" he said. "I want to get off this upper label. Believe me that I am justified in what I am doing." Miss Tonks ran out of the room and returned immediately with a basin of water and a sponge. "Shall I take off the label?" she asked. "No, thank you," Robert answered, coldly. "I can do it very well myself."
Mother Tonks said that I was staying here for the night because my father's house was full of soldiers. She couldn't and wouldn't, she said, have a soldier here for all the worshipful mayors in England. I was quite amused at the way she talked him back to the door and through it." The little woman bustled in to lay the supper things. She was bubbling over with elation.
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