Such to outward appearances was Miss Pring, who had lived at Home Vale, as Sir Jasper Amery's tenant, for the past ten years. Formerly, she had been a rich woman; but, owing to the failure of a bank, she had lost most of her money, and finding herself in really poor circumstances, she had sought about for a country cottage, with a large garden which she could turn to some account. Once Miss Pring had gardened for pleasure; now she laboured for profit as well, and grew quantities of vegetable and flowers for sale in the neighbouring market town of T—.
At first when she had settled at Home Vale, people had looked at her rather askance; but, slowly it had dawned on her neighbours—none of whom lived very near, by-the-by, with the exception of Sir Jasper Amery—that careless of appearances though she was, and living without a servant, of which fact she was not a whit ashamed, there was no truer lady at heart than Miss Pring. A year previously she had locked up her cottage for a couple of days, and started on a journey. On her return she had brought with her a pale, weary-looking girl, evidently in very bad health, whom she had introduced to her acquaintances as her niece, Mary Pring. The girl had been a governess in a large town in the midlands, where she been underpaid, and, at the same time, so greatly overworked that she had broken down altogether, and being homeless, had been in dire distress of mind as to how to act when her aunt had appeared upon the scene, and insisted on carrying her home with her to Devon.
Now, Mary's health was completely restored, and she had been on the look-out for another situation for some weeks, when, only yesterday she had received a note from Sir Jasper Amery, asking her to call the following morning at the Moat House, as his niece, Mrs. Wallis, who had come to pay him a long visit, required a governess for her two little girls, and he thought she might prove suitable for the post.
Mary had accordingly started for the Moat House that morning in high spirits, whilst her aunt had betaken herself to the kitchen garden to pass the time of her niece's absence in hard work, to keep her from thinking, as she told herself. Miss Pring was very anxious for Mary to remain with her, for she realised how lonely she would feel if the girl was forced to leave her, and she could not afford to keep her at Home Vale in idleness. She watched the lark till, its song finished, it sank to the ground in an adjacent field, then resumed her work, turning up the rich, red mould with a will.
"I hope the child will get the situation," she thought; "she appeared very sanguine about it herself. How I should miss companionship if we had to part! We suit each other, for all we're so unlike. I'm glad I spoke of her to Sir Jasper when I saw him last. Poor old man! It will be a great change for him to have young people at the Moat House. Oh, here's Mary at last!"
Mary came swiftly down the garden path towards her aunt. She was a tall, slight young woman, brown-haired and brown-eyed, with a face which, possessing not one perfect feature, was nevertheless wonderfully pleasing and attractive, and now wore an expression so bright and joyous that Miss Pring knew at once that her heart's desire was to granted, and that Mary had obtained the much coveted situation.
"Well?" the elder woman said, interrogatively, in a deep, somewhat gruff voice.
"It is well, Aunt Esther," Mary replied, putting her arm around her aunt's waist, and imprinting a hearty kiss on her sunburnt cheek. "Everything is settled, and I am to commence my duties to-morrow. And what salary do you think I am to have?"
Miss Pring shook her head, and her niece continued:
"Forty pounds a year! I never dreamt it would be so much. Yes, indeed it is true. Now I shall be able to pay you for my living here. We shall be quite rich, shan't we? I am to be at the Moat House from ten to four."