But after this she was always asking for stories, and always listened solemnly, with her dark eyes fixed on his face.

She never seemed to admire him at all for his gift, but treated it with a kind of indulgent wonder, as if he were some queer animal with uncommon tricks.

This dashed Taffy a bit, for he liked to be thought a fine fellow.

But he went on telling his stories, and sometimes invented new ones for her.
George Vyell was much more appreciative.

Sir Harry had heard of the lessons, and wrote to beg that his son might join the class.
So George rode over three times a week to learn Latin, which he did with uncommon slowness.