“I am a great deal more alarmed of the poor dears than they will be of me! My sister Jill pretended to swoon at the idea of a room full of governesses. She said it was more like a nightmare than a piece of real life.”
“Hush!” whispered Mrs Vanburgh tragically. “They come!” for footsteps were heard ascending the staircase, and the assistants flew to their posts, while the hostess endeavoured to hum a tune in a light and jaunty manner.
Another moment and the door was thrown open to disclose—a servant, bearing a note upon a silver salver. It was not a governess after all!
The two girls came forward into the room, divided between relief and disappointment.
Mrs Vanburgh tossed the note impatiently aside, and said resignedly—
“Ah, well, it gives us all the longer to prepare! I’ll run into my room and mend this horrid dress, and you might arrange these books of photographs. They are really awfully interesting, and of almost every country you can imagine. Old Mr Vanburgh collected them on his travels, so you have only to find out which country interests your special governess most, and—there you are! It will save no end of exertion!”
She ran out of the room, and the two girls stood together, seized with a sudden shyness at finding themselves alone.
“I—I think we know each other very well by sight,” said Cynthia, and Betty blushed and blinked, remembering the crowded schoolroom window and her own scathing criticisms.
“Yes—I’m afraid we have stared a great deal. We are so interested in our neighbours, but they are almost all old—you were the only young one like ourselves. We were frightfully anxious to know all about you.”
Cynthia gave a pathetic little sigh.