Next, a little mollified by my humble demeanour, he resumed in his usual tutorial tone⁠—the tone which he had adopted in his newfound role of preceptor:

“When are you going to grow steadier and more thoughtful? Consider yourself for a moment. You are no longer a child, a little girl, but a maiden of fifteen.”

Then, with a desire (probably) to satisfy himself that I was no longer a being of tender years, he threw me a glance⁠—but straightway reddened to his very ears. This I could not understand, but stood gazing at him in astonishment. Presently, he straightened himself a little, approached me with a sort of confused expression, and haltingly said something⁠—probably it was an apology for not having before perceived that I was now a grown-up young person. But the next moment I understood. What I did I hardly know, save that, in my dismay and confusion, I blushed even more hotly than he had done and, covering my face with my hands, rushed from the room.