He looked up with a rather quizzical glance as I entered: he and Nathaniel had the round table between them, strewn with books and papers; Nathaniel was writing, and Mr.Hamilton was sitting opposite to him.
'I beg your pardon,' I said hurriedly.

'I thought Mrs.Barton was here.' 'She has gone to bed,' returned Mr.Hamilton coolly: 'my friend Nathaniel and I are hard at work, as you see.

Do you know anything of mathematics, Miss Garston ?--no, you shake your head--' I do not know what more he would have said, but I escaped with a quick good-night.
As I went upstairs I made a resolution to avoid the kitchen in future: I might at any moment stumble upon Mr.Hamilton.I had forgotten that he gave Nathaniel lessons sometimes in the evening.

What a ubiquitous mortal this man appeared, here, there, and everywhere! It had given me rather a shock to see him so comfortably domiciled in Mrs.Barton's cosy kitchen; he looked as much at home there as in Uncle Max's study.

How bright Nathaniel had looked as he raised his head to bid me good-night! I was obliged to confess that they had seemed as happy as possible.
It was very late when he left the cottage; I was just sinking off to sleep when I heard his voice under my window.