Janet had ever developed in her charge an inclination for all
beauty; not failing, however, to show wherein weakness crept; where
grace of countenance oft screened defect of character. Indeed this
maid was one of Janet's own creation, save in flesh and blood, and no
one knew any better than she, herself, the vanity to rout the faults
and frailties inherited. She strove the harder to overthrow such
imperfections by perfecting and cultivating the maid's receptive mood.
She was ever fencing with her in words, working out in detail exchange
of thought wherein Katherine might, if 'twere in her, make a clever
reply. At times Mistress Penwick would pick up such threads of Janet's
teaching as would bring her to a semblance of conscience of present
environment, and she would see in a vague way the right and wrong of
things. For the moment she would read all in Cantemir's handsome
face that it masqued and would turn from it only to become lost in
contemplation of what life would be if she were free from Cedric's
guardianship, never thinking of the greater bondage of espousing a
knave.
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