In this highly heated state our governess was, of course, sensitive to the smallest inlet of cooler air, and “draughts” were accordingly her abhorrence. How we contrived to distinguish a verb from a noun, or committed anything whatever to memory in the fever-heat and “stuffy” atmosphere of the little room which was sacred to our studies, I do not know. At a certain degree of the thermometer Miss Perry’s face rises before me and makes my brain spin even now.
This was, no doubt, one cause of the very severe headaches to which Matilda became subject about this time, though, now I look back, I do not think she had been quite strong since we all had the measles. They were apt to end in a fainting condition, from which she recovered by lying on the floor. Then, if Miss Perry happened to be in good humour, she would excuse Matilda from further lessons, invariably adding, in her “mystery” voice—“But not a word to your mamma!”
It was the most unjustifiable use she made of influence she gained over us (especially over poor Matilda, who was very fond of her, and believed in her) that she magnified her own favours at the expense of Major Buller and my aunt. For some time they had no doubts as to the wisdom of Mrs. Minchin’s choice.
Miss Perry was clever enough not to display her romantic side to Mrs. Buller. She amused her, too, with Riflebury gossip, in which she was an adept. She knew equally well how far she might venture with the Major; and the sleight-of-hand with which she threw needlework over a novel when Aunt Theresa came into the school-room was not more skilful than the way in which she turned the tail of a bit of scandal into a remark upon the weather as Uncle Buller opened the drawing-room door.
But Miss Perry was not skilful enough to win the Major’s lasting favour. He was always slow to interfere in domestic matters, but he was not unobservant.
“I’m sure you see a great deal more than one would think, Edward,” Aunt Theresa would say; “although you are so wrapt up in insects and things.”
“The insects don’t get into my eyes, my dear,” said Major Buller.
“And hear too,” Mrs. Buller continued. “Mrs. O’Connor was saying only the other day that you often seem to hear of things before other people, though you do talk so little.”
“It is, perhaps, because I am not always talking that I do hear. But Mrs. O’Connor is not likely to think of that,” said the Major, rather severely.
He was neither blind nor deaf in reference to Miss Perry, and she was dismissed. Aunt Theresa rather dreaded Mrs. Minchin’s indignation in the matter, I believe; but needlessly, for Miss Perry and Mrs. Minchin quarrelled about this time, and Mrs. Minchin had then so much information to Miss Perry’s disadvantage at her fingers’ ends, that it seemed wonderful that she should ever have recommended her.