And then I felt very much afraid lest Patty should hear of what I had said, and repay me by telling all she knew.
“No; I should never have expected that from what I have seen of your two charming pupils. Mrs de Blount, that they would have had feelings, sentiments, or emotions in common with a young person of the name of—Jones.”
“Then, if your daughter wishes it, my dear madam,” said Mrs Blunt, “I think we may venture to say that the matter is settled to your satisfaction. You see,” she continued, “that when a new pupil arrives, I look upon mine as quite a maternal charge—one that embraces all that a mother owes to her child, with that of the teacher and trainer of the young and budding intellect.”
“Exactly so,” said Mrs Campanelle Brassey, nodding her head.
“And therefore,” continued Mrs Blunt, apparently much encouraged—“therefore, my dear madam, I try to study pupils’ comfort and wishes, even in those which some people might consider trivial things. I study, as far as I can, the present as well as the future; so that when, strong-winged, these young birds take flight, they may always in their happy futures—”
“Certainly—happy futures,” said Mrs Campanelle Brassey, nodding her head; “certainly, after such training.”
“Happy futures, look back,” continued Mrs Blunt, “to the days when they were at the Cedars, and feel a tear dim their eye’s brightness—a tear, not of sorrow, but of regret.”
“Very true,” said Mrs Campanelle Brassey. “I quite agree with you, Mrs de Blount. Charming sentiments.”
“And therefore, you see, had there been any dislike to the alteration upon our young friend’s part,” said Mrs Blunt, “I should not have liked to make the change.”
Yes: she actually said all that, just as if she believed it, and even smiled at me as she spoke; while, I declare, I almost felt dumb-founded to hear what she said.