Only I think I know what it will be beforehand; and I would rather you had shown more confidence in me." Hetty could not give her mind to her lessons that day, nor get rid of the feeling that she was in disgrace.

When evening came, the hour when Mr.Enderby was usually to be found in his study, she asked Miss Davis's permission to go to him, and with her portfolio in her hand presented herself at his door.
"Come in, Hetty," said Mr.Enderby; "what is this you have got to show me?
Maps, plans, or what?
Why, drawings!" Hetty's mouth grew dry, and her heart beat violently.

The tone of his voice betrayed that the master of Wavertree had no more sympathy for art, or anything connected with it, than had Miss Davis.

He was an accurate methodical man with a taste for mathematics, who believed in the power conferred by knowledge on man and woman; but who had little respect for those who concerned themselves with only the beauties and graces of life.

Art was to him a trifle, and devotion to it a folly.
Therefore Hetty with her trembling hopes was not likely to find favour at his hands.
"My child, I am sure they are very pretty; but this sort of thing will not advance you in the world." "But, Mr.Enderby,--I have been thinking--artists get on as well as governesses.