"I really think I've fixed up Mysie's education," he said. "A most charming young woman has arrived in these parts, a full-fledged and certificated teacher. She's not obliged to teach, but she loves it, and she's started coming over to give the child lessons every day from nine to one. Have you made her acquaintance yet?"
"No. I've heard about her. She makes a favourable impression upon everybody. I am quite anxious to see her. You do seem lucky. Is she fond of children?"
"I should think so. She's fond of teaching—the two go together. She has great ideas about education. I could hardly follow her, after a certain time. But her heart and soul are in it."
"And how does Mysie like her?"
"I have not asked. She's too critical—that child. She began at once to say she didn't like people who smiled when they said nasty things. I shut her up. Told her that governesses were not to be criticized. That they were to be respected and obeyed. And then what do you think she said?"
"Something to the point, I expect."
"'When I grow up, I shall trample obedience to the ground, and do all the things I'm told not to do now.' What do you think of that for a child of nine?"
"Oh, she means nothing. It's a fit of petulance. I used to talk like that when I was young."
"You are very comforting," he said with a grave smile. "I would like Mysie to grow up like you."
"Oh, never!" cried Rowena. "You don't mean it. I hope she'll do something more with her life than I have with mine. I have never done so much introspecting in all my days as I have since I've been on my back. I've been too busy and one just lives without questioning the whys and wherefores of life. But I'm beginning to see I haven't much to show for my years of life, so far."