"There is the same difference between them and myself as between a mechanical singing bird made to sing three tunes and a wild, sweet bird of the woods. I like my own self best."
"There is not the least doubt of that," observed Miss Hastings, with a smile; "but the question is not so much what we like ourselves as what others like in us. However, we will discuss that at another time, Miss Darrell."
"Has my uncle told you that if I please him—if I can be molded into the right form—I am to be heiress of Darrell Court?" she asked, quickly.
"Yes; and now that I have seen you I am persuaded that you can be anything you wish."
"Do you think, then, that I am clever?" she asked, eagerly.
"I should imagine so," replied Miss Hastings. "Pauline—I need not call you Miss Darrell—I hope we shall be friends; I trust we shall be happy together."
"It is not very likely," she said, slowly, "that I can like you, Miss Hastings."
"Why not?" asked the governess, astonished at her frankness.
"Because you are to correct me; continual correction will be a great annoyance, and will prevent my really liking you."
Miss Hastings looked astounded.