"Pshaw!" replied Eugénie impatiently; "I'm not a girl, but a woman, and am not afraid of anything like that, and besides--besides," with hesitation, "I'm going to see her."
"What do you mean?" asked Keith, abruptly withdrawing his arm.
"Nothing; only I saw an advertisement in the paper wanting a governess for a little girl. I answered it, and found it was Miss Marchurst who wanted a governess. She engaged me, and I'm going there to-morrow."
"No, no," cried Keith vehemently; "you must not--you shall not go."
Eugénie raised her eyes to his.
"Have you any reason for wishing me not to go?"
"Yes, every reason--she's a bad lot."
"I thought you knew her?"
"So I do, but men may know women of that class, and women like you may not."
"I don't agree with you," said Eugénie, rising; "what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, and if you persist in wishing me not to go, I'll begin to think you've some reason."