The morning lessons in the schoolroom had always been irksome. And to-day they soon became intolerable. The governess with such grave issues weighing upon her made little or no attempt to give her mind to the daily routine. Besides she was in the blackest of moods. This morning she was hating everybody and everything. Her temper, which had suffered ten long days unnatural repression, had now a dangerous edge.
It was the amiable custom of Master Peter and Miss Joan to begin the day with a quarrel. And it was regarded as the first duty of the custodian of these spoiled darlings to calm their ugly little tempers without losing her own. From the first, as far as Elfreda was concerned, this had seemed to ask almost too much of human nature. A creature of curiously strong antipathies she disliked Miss Joan and Master Peter so intensely that the time had now come when she found it exceedingly difficult to stay in the same room with them.
“Don’t, Jo-an, you are pulling my hair!”
“Pe-tah, you story—you wicked story!”
It was the beginning of the daily duet. And it was part of the price exacted by Nemesis of Miss Cass’s deputy. The Lady Elfreda Catkins of the planet must not suppose that for the average nursery governess life is a bed of roses. No doubt it was in the interests of human nature as a whole that they should not. All the same, by the time the duet had been repeated for the eleventh successive morning, the Deputy-Miss Cass would have given much to slay Master Peter and Miss Joan.
The governess made several attempts to ensue peace. But this morning her task was not easy. She was feeling, perhaps too keenly, the pressure of events. No longer perfect mistress of a sure and balanced self, she allowed her small tyrants to perceive with the uncanny acuteness that small tyrants have, that just now the game was in their favor. And they were tempted to presume on their knowledge. The thoughts of Miss Cass seemed elsewhere. This morning there was less sting in her rebuke; on the surface, at all events, her manner towards them was not quite so uncompromising.
The duet went on. And so forbearing was Miss Cass that its most popular passages were repeated. New embellishments were even added to the original performance. For instance, when Miss Joan encored a particularly neat and effective pinch, Master Peter, disdaining mere words, suddenly got right home with a well directed hack on Miss Joan’s shin.
Miss Joan responded with a little howl of fury. This protest having completely failed to attract the notice of Miss Cass, Miss Joan proceeded to deliver an honestly resounding box on Master Peter’s ear.
The reply of Master Peter was to fling ink over Miss Joan’s copy book.
And then things really began to happen. Miss Joan cast a hasty glance at the governess in order to be quite sure that private thoughts still engaged the whole of that lady’s attention, and then she fairly went for Master Peter. First the kick was returned with interest and then ink in liberal quantities was daubed over Master Peter’s face and collar. This last indignity, however, proved too much for the self-respect of a Briton. Master Peter’s rejoinder took the form of a piercing howl.