It was not the first time that Doctor Chichester’s wife had come to bring help to her husband’s poorer patients: she went daily to the little dingy lodging off Pentonville, while the young wife lingered, as though loth to leave the boy-husband who stood watching her with great, sad eyes. The good doctor and his wife soon heard their pitiful little story.
Sydney Henderson had but just left school when she went as governess to the little boy and girl of Lady Braemuir, niece to the Marquess of St. Quentin. It was a big, gay house; but the little governess, playing nursery games with her charges, saw little of the company till Lady Braemuir’s youngest cousin, Lord Francis, came to shoot the Braemuir grouse before joining his regiment.
The children were full of “Tousin Fwank” before he came. He had stayed at Braemuir six months previously. When he came, the reason of their interest in his arrival became speedily apparent. Francis Lisle was perfectly devoted to children, with a genuine devotion that made mothers beam upon him.
He was known in the nurseries of many a big house: he made himself at home in the school-room of his little cousins.
Lady Braemuir laughed at him and his “childish tastes,” but never said a word upon the subject to the little governess, hardly more than a child herself, until a day when, coming home from a tennis-party tired and cross, she heard laughter issuing from the school-room, where Lord Francis, who had declined going to the party, was found sharing his little cousins’ tea.
Forgetful of everything but irritation, Lady Braemuir spoke cruelly to the girl, who knew so little of the duties of a governess. Lord Francis bore her remarks in silence for a minute, then the frightened appeal in the childish eyes overcame his prudence.
He went across to the girl and took her hand.
“Excuse me, Gwenyth,” he said sternly; “there is no need to say any more upon this subject. I am going to ask Miss Henderson if she will be my wife.” And he did.
“I wash my hands of the whole business!” Lady Braemuir said. “Frank must explain as best he can to Uncle St. Quentin.”