“I suppose you don’t intend to give trouble,” she said. “I am sorry you don’t know your Catechism, but we’ll try and teach you while you’re here. Learn the first three answers for next Sunday.”
The two pair of bright eyes met, a little defiantly, but somehow Florence felt uncomfortable.
“Well, she is a plucky little thing,” she said to her neighbour as they rose. “She ain’t afraid of us.”
“Miss Geraldine!”
“I like the look of her,” said Florrie. “I shall try behaving myself. I can if I choose; some girls can’t.”
Chapter Eight.
Granny.
After church Wyn went to attend to the supper of some of the animals which were in his special charge, and Mrs Warren took Florence up to the great house to see her old mother-in-law, who had once been housekeeper, but was now old and rheumatic, and confined to one room. As they walked through the park they met Geraldine and her governess. Mrs Warren made her dignified little curtsey, and Florrie grinned from ear to ear with extreme good-nature, and what she felt to be the kindest notice of her new teacher. Mrs Warren noticed, but again said nothing. They walked through the great fruit-gardens round to the back entrance and into the servants’ hall, from which they went first to visit Mrs Hay in the housekeeper’s room. Mrs Warren was a welcome guest, and there was plenty of politeness to her young friend. Florence was an observant girl; her ideas of superior service had risen hitherto to a villa “where three were kept.” These solemn upper servants, with their vast comfortable premises, their handsome clothes, and their intense sense of superiority, were more overawing to her than their masters and mistresses would have been.