"And to whom should I be kind, but to my old governess," said Mrs. Jarsell in a gruff way. "Why, you have taught me all I know."
"And I should think Miss Armour could teach a lot," said Laurance in his pleasant manner; "you know so much and have such tact, that you should be out in the world governing people, Miss Armour." She sent a sharp glance in his direction, as if to inquire exactly what he meant. Then she accepted the compliment with a charming laugh. "But for this dreadful paralysis, I should, indeed, love to be out in the world. I love to deal with human nature, and make people do what I want."
"Can you?" asked Mildred anxiously. "Yes, child," replied the ex-governess quietly, "because I base my diplomacy on the knowledge that every one, with few exceptions, is ruled by self. Harp on that string, and you can manage any one."
"Miss Armour," put in Mrs. Jarsell, in her deep voice, "rather talks of what she would do than what she does. Here, we see few people. I go up to town on occasions, but very rarely."
"You must find it dull," said Dan candidly. For some reason Miss Armour appeared to think this speech amusing. "Oh, no; I don't find life dull at all, I assure you. There is always a great deal to be done, when one knows how to set about the doing."
"As how?" questioned the young man, somewhat puzzled. "Books and music, and card-games and knitting-work," said Mrs. Jarsell quickly, as if she did not approve of Miss Armour's observations; "nothing more."
"Quite so nothing more," assented the governess, but with a sudden flash of her brown eyes directed towards her friend. "Here we are out of the world. Do you stay long, Mr. Halliday?"
"Only for another couple of days, until I can get the machine."
"You shall get it, I promise you," said Mrs. Jarsell graciously, when the trio arose to depart. "Mr. Vincent owes me too much to disregard my request."
"Of course," chimed in Mildred. "Uncle Solomon would never be able to build his aeroplanes if you didn't help him with money. Good-by, Miss Armour."