Mademoiselle de Courcelles met the judicial glance with a sweet and deprecatory smile.
In Miss Lucilla's hand were several letters, each written in flowing, graceful French upon stationery bearing an imposing crest. Madame la duchesse de Rochechouart, Madame la comtesse de Pourtales, Madame la comtesse de St. Narcy had in those gracious letters expressed their enthusiastic appreciation of Mademoiselle de Courcelles's rare qualities of mind and heart, their absolute confidence in her integrity and ability, and their deep regret that they had been unable to persuade her to remain in Paris and continue her supervision of the education of certain prospective dukes and counts.
One note, less aristocratic in character, was from Mrs. Dent-Smyth, head of the teachers' agency to which the Misses Ryder resorted in emergencies like the present one.
This worthy lady wrote frankly that as Mademoiselle de Courcelles's advent had been almost coincident with Miss Ryder's request for a teacher, there had been no time to investigate the Frenchwoman's Paris references. Mrs. Dent-Smyth was, however, of the opinion that these references seemed most satisfactory, and she believed that a personal interview with the applicant would convince Miss Ryder that the young woman was a very superior person, and her French of a superfine quality.
Miss Lucilla, albeit maintaining a non-committal exterior, mentally agreed with Mrs. Dent-Smyth. Mademoiselle de Courcelles was distinguished in appearance, polished in manner, sweet of voice. She spoke English haltingly, but her French was of a quality to suit the most exacting of parents. To all of Miss Ryder's questions she made deferential, modest, yet self-possessed answer.
She was, it seemed, but newly come to America. Financial reverses had forced her, an orphan of good family, to earn her living. There were wealthy and influential friends who were willing to help her, but a De Courcelles—Mademoiselle spoke the word proudly—could not live upon charity. She had taught in the families of several of these friends, but the situation was impossible, and she had decided that it would be easier to live her life among strangers, where she would be unhampered by old traditions and associations.
Sounding titles flitted through the tale, brought in quite casually, but proving none the less impressive to a thoroughgoing republican.
Miss Lucilla listened thoughtfully, glancing from time to time at the crests upon the letters she held. As a freeborn American she scorned to truckle to the effête aristocracy of Europe; but still, she admitted, there was really something pleasing about a title. Of course she had always been very particular about looking up references, but this was an exceptional case. She would consult Miss Emmeline.
Now when Miss Lucilla says that she will consult Miss Emmeline, her mind is already made up. Miss Emmeline has never, by any chance, volunteered an opinion upon a subject without having first heard the elder sister's opinion upon the same subject. Having heard, she echoes.
"I believe this young person will be a great addition to the staff," said Miss Lucilla.