At breakfast next morning young Harry was much surprised and concerned to be told that he was going to have a governess.
“A guv’niss,” he said, pausing in the act of raising a spoonful of oatmeal porridge to his mouth, “a guv’niss, papa? What’s a guv’niss? Something to eat?”
“No, child; a governess is a lady, who will do the duties of a teacher to you, learn you your lessons and—”
“Mamma can do that.”
“And give you sums to do.”
“Ma does all that, papa.”
“And go with you wherever you go.”
Harry leant his chin upon his hand thoughtfully for a moment or two; then he said:
“Mm, will the guv’niss go high up the trees with me, papa, and will she make faces at Towsie?”
“I don’t think so, Harold.”