She stopped, remembering his snub on the subject of calling the Chichesters’ house home; but he only said, with a little smile, “Well, go and make your governess welcome in your own way, child. I hear wheels now.” And, as the girl flew out, her long hair streaming behind her, he said half aloud, “I wonder how it would feel to have anyone to care if one were wretched or no!”
Sydney was on the steps to receive Miss Osric, and certainly her shy but eager welcome made a good deal of difference to the feelings of the young governess, bewildered by this plunge into the outside world, made for the sake of the younger ones at home, who needed better education than her father’s means allowed. Mary Osric, just returned from a brilliant career at Lady Margaret Hall, had begged to be allowed to help towards providing some of the advantages she had herself enjoyed for her juniors; and a friend had mentioned her name to Lady Frederica as that of a clever girl, likely to fill suitably the double post of governess and companion to Miss Lisle.
Miss Osric had been considered shy at College, despite her cleverness, and the idea of teaching a strange girl in an absolutely strange place was terrible to her. But she always declared afterwards that the worst was over when Sydney came running out into the hall to welcome her.
“You must be cold!” the girl cried. “Would you like to come straight to your room and take your hat off before tea? Let me carry your umbrella. Be careful how you walk; the floors are very slippery.”
“It is lovely—just like a picture,” said Miss Osric, beginning suddenly to feel less homesick. There was something very winning about Sydney’s tone.
The room where the new arrival was to sleep bore traces also of the same care for her comfort. A bright fire burnt in the grate, a vase of hot-house flowers was on the writing-table, the pictures from Dacreshaw looked charming on the walls, and a little book-case was filled with a selection of Sydney’s best-loved books.
“What a charming room!” the young governess exclaimed, and Sydney, colouring a little, murmured she “was glad Miss Osric liked it.” She stayed with her governess while she took off coat, hat, and fur, and then brought her to the morning-room, where the shaded lamp shed a delicate rose glow over everything and the little tea-table was drawn up to the fire.
“I am so very glad you have come,” said Sydney, as she poured out tea and handed muffins, and Miss Osric began to realise that the duty she had set herself need not necessarily prove a hard one.
“Well, do you like the mentor?” asked St. Quentin, as Sydney came into the library to wish him good-night. “Are you going to be quite happy now you have another girl to play with?”
And Sydney, meeting the real anxiety in his eyes, said “Yes.”