"Yes, ma'am. And you are Mrs. Grey?" peering at her with some curiosity; for, as every body knew every thing in Avonsbridge, no doubt Miss Bennett was perfectly well aware that Dr. Grey's young wife was the ci-devant governess at Mr. Ferguson's.
"Will you walk up into my room? I wanted a word with you before lessons."
"Certainly, Mrs. Grey. I hope you are quite satisfied with my instruction of Miss Grey. Indeed, my recommendations—as I told Miss Gascoigne—include some of the very first families—"
"I have no doubt Miss Gascoigne was satisfied," interrupted Mrs. Grey, not quite liking the flippant manner, the showy style of dress, and the air, at once subservient and forward; in truth, something which, despite her prettiness, stamped the governess as underbred, exactly what Aunt Henrietta had said—"not a lady."
"Your qualifications for teaching I have no wish to investigate; what I have to speak about is a totally different thing."
Miss Bennett looked uneasy for a minute, but Christian's manner was so studiously polite, even kindly, that she seemed to think nothing could be seriously wrong. She sat down composedly on the crimson sofa, and began investigating, with admiring, curious, and rather envious eyes, the handsome room, half boudoir, half bed-chamber.
"Oh, Mrs. Grey, what a nice room this is! How you must enjoy it! It's a hard life, teaching children."
"It is a hard life, as I know, for I was once a governess myself."
This admission, given so frankly, without the least hesitation, evidently quite surprised Miss Bennett. With still greater curiosity than the fine room, she regarded the fine lady who had once been a governess, and was not ashamed to own it.
"Well, all I can say is, you have been very lucky in your marriage, Mrs.
Grey; I only wish I might be the same."