“You see,” said Wally, “Isabelle is a little devil. You might as well know the worst at once. She’s got no manners at all, and she’s spoiled to death.”
“Wally, you don’t have to tell everything you know,” quoted Isabelle, sharply.
“Upon my word!” said Miss Barnes. “How old is she?”
“She’s just had her fourth birthday.”
“But she needs a nurse, not a governess.”
“I won’t have a nurse. I want you.”
“She’s had a lot of women, mostly old ones. I told Mrs. Bryce I thought she ought to have a young woman with her, and she told me that if I knew so much about it, I could get her a governess myself.”
“I see,” said Miss Barnes; “and just what do you want her governess to do?”
“Ride and swim with her, and keep her out of mischief. I suppose you would teach her something—letters and counting, and all that?”
“A governess usually does,” she smiled.