At length she was on the point of
writing a letter, with whatever result, when chance spared her the
trouble.
One morning in December, she went with her mother to an exhibition
of pictures in Bond Street. Such visits had been common of late;
Mrs. Enderby could rarely occupy herself at home, and pictures, as
everything beautiful, always attracted her. They had been in the
gallery a few minutes only, when Maud recognised Waymark close at
hand. He was looking closely at a canvas, and seemed quite unaware
of her proximity. She laid her hand on her mother's arm, and spoke
in a nervous whisper.
"Mother, I know that gentleman."
"This one?" asked Mrs. Enderby, indicating Waymark, with a smile.
She showed no surprise, any more than she would have done had Maud
been only her friend.
"Yes. If he should notice me, may I introduce him to you? He was at
the school where I taught a year ago."
"Why, certainly, my love," replied her mother, with cheerful assent.
"It is quite natural that you should have acquaintances I should
like to know. Shall I ask him to come and see us?"
There was no opportunity of answering. Waymark, in moving on, had
glanced round at the groups of people, and his eye had fallen on
Maud.
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