“Try,” said Mad. de Rosier; “go into that closet by yourself, and try once more, and perhaps you will find that you can make it right.”
Herbert knelt down in the closet, though rather unwillingly, to this provoking sum.
“Master Herbert, my dear,” said Mrs. Grace, following him, “will you be so good as to go for Miss Favoretta’s scissors, if you please, which she lent you yesterday?—she wants ‘em, my dear.”
Herbert, surprised by the unusually good-natured tone of this request, ran for the scissors, and at his return, found that his difficult sum had been cast up in his absence; the total was written at the bottom of it, and he read these words, which he knew to be Mrs. Grace’s writing—“Rub out my figurs, and write them in your own.” Herbert immediately rubbed out Mrs. Grace’s figures with indignation, and determined to do the sum for himself. He carried it to Mad. de Rosier—it was wrong: Grace stared, and when she saw Herbert patiently stand beside Mad. de Rosier and repeat his efforts, she gave up all idea of obtaining any influence over him.
“Mad. de Rosier,” said she to herself, “has bewitched ‘em all; I think it’s odd one can’t find out her art!”
Mrs. Grace seemed to think that she could catch the knack of educating children, as she had surreptitiously learnt, from a fashionable hairdresser, the art of dressing hair. Ever since Mrs. Harcourt had spoken in such a decided manner respecting Mad. de Rosier, her maid had artfully maintained the greatest appearance of respect for that lady, in her mistress’s presence, and had even been scrupulous, to a troublesome extreme, in obeying the governess’s orders; and by a studied show of attachment to Mrs. Harcourt, and much alacrity at her toilette, she had, as she flattered herself, secured a fresh portion of favour.
One morning Mrs. Harcourt found, when she awoke, that she had a headache, and a slight feverish complaint. She had caught cold the night before in coming out of a warm assembly-room. Mrs. Grace affected to be much alarmed at her mistress’s indisposition, and urged her to send immediately for Dr. X——. To this Mrs. Harcourt half consented, and a messenger was sent for him. In the meantime Mrs. Harcourt, who had been used to be much attended to in her slight indispositions, expressed some surprise that Mad. de Rosier, or some of her children, when they heard that she was ill, had not come to see her.
“Where is Isabella? where is Matilda? or Favoretta? what is become of them all? do they know I am ill, Grace?”
“Oh dear! yes, ma’am; but they’re all gone out in the coach, with Mad. de Rosier.”
“All?” said Mrs. Harcourt.