"I am sure you wouldn't like her, mumsie," said her little daughter, positively, "she seems so off-hand; and once or twice she was quite rude to Miss Churchill. Why, she actually said----"
"Hush! dear, no tale-telling. You know, girlie, I only want to hear nice things about your school companions. Perhaps it would be wiser not to make a close friend of this Monica, just at present, but always be kind and courteous. I daresay she feels strange among you all, especially if she is not accustomed to school. How old is she?"
"Fifteen; but she is such a big girl, mumsie, quite as tall as some of the girls in the Fifth. She went in the school door as I did this morning, and some elderly person was with her. I thought perhaps it was her mother or aunt, although she didn't look a very kind one; but Monica said: 'That will do, Barnes, you need not come any farther,' in such a commanding tone, so I suppose she was a servant."
"I expect the young lady in question is a granddaughter of Mrs. Beauchamp, of Carson Rise," remarked Mr. Drury. "I have heard she has one living with her."
"Yes, she is, father," said Amethyst, eager to show off her knowledge. "Olive and Elsa knew her by sight. They said she had had four daily governesses, and she wouldn't obey one of them. That's why her grandmother has sent her to school." Amethyst's face wore an awe-struck expression; such a terrible state of affairs seemed incredible to her.
"I am surprised at the Franklyns for repeating such a thing. At any rate we will not discuss this Monica's misdeeds, Amethyst, we have plenty of faults of our own." Mrs. Drury spoke sternly, and then she changed the subject.
Her little daughter looked very abashed, and was quite quiet for a few minutes; her mother seldom spoke in so severe a tone, her rule was rather one of love. But she had a great aversion to tittle-tattling, and endeavoured to check every indication of it in Amethyst's school-girl talk.
The cheerful midday meal concluded, the vicar prepared for an afternoon's parochial visiting. Mrs. Drury got out her work-basket in order to finish a garment she was making for a poor old woman, who used to attend her mothers' meeting. Amethyst amused herself with alternately talking to the canary, whose cage hung in one of the sunny windows, and playing with a beautiful black and white cat, who stretched himself lazily on the hearthrug, and blinked his eyes and purred in appreciation of his little mistress's fondling.
"Shall I get out my lessons now, mumsie; they will take me a good long time to-day?" she asked, when she was tired of amusing herself.
"No, dear, I think you shall leave them until after tea," said Mrs. Drury, as she sewed on the last button, and folded up her work. "I am going to take this to old Mrs. Robbins, and you may go with me."