“My name is Fanchon,” said that young lady. “Fanny—I prefer to call you; I hate French names.” Fanchon withdrew. The Reverend Josiah was discovered, and was borne up to little Nina’s room. Miss Juggins was seated by the bed.
“How do you do!” she said when the rector entered. “You don’t mind my finding my way about this house, I hope, Mr Amberley, seeing that I knew your sainted wife so well. I came to ask you if you could find me a situation. This child is a little ill from overeating, and ought to get up and take a good walk. I will go down with you to your study, Mr Amberley, for I must have a private talk. Good-bye, children. Take my advice, and tidy up your room. Really, Rector, you don’t bring your girls up at all in the way their dear mother would have liked.”
The door slammed behind Miss Juggins. The girls looked at each other.
“We mustn’t get rid of Pussy-cat,” said Nina then. “She would be fifty times worse. Well, I’ll keep the sums awfully carefully, and I’ll—”
“You’ll have to believe in her, you know, and try to be agreeable,” said Fanchon.
“Oh—any fate in preference to Juggins!” was Josephine’s remark.