Mr. and Mrs. Paler were staying temporarily at Nulle; well-connected English people, about to fix their residence in Paris. They were strangers to me personally, but the Miss Barlieus knew something of their family, and we heard that Mrs. Paler was inquiring for a governess; one who spoke thoroughly English, French, and German. Mademoiselle Annette thought it might suit me, and proposed to take me to call on them at the Lion d'Or hotel.
I seized upon the idea eagerly. The word Paris had wrought its own charm. To be conveyed to that city of delight appeared only secondary to entering within the precincts of a modern Elysium.
"Oh, Mademoiselle Annette, pray let us go! I might perhaps do for them."
Mademoiselle Annette laughed at the eagerness so unequivocally betrayed. But she set off with me the same day.
The Lion d'Or was full. Mr. and Mrs. Paler had no private sitting-room (there were only two salons in the whole house), and we were ushered into their chamber, French fashion. Mr. Paler was a stout man in gold spectacles, shy and silent; his wife, a tall handsome woman with large eyes and dark hair, talked enough for both. Some conversation ensued, chiefly taken up by Mrs. Paler explaining the sort of governess she wished for, Mr. Paler having quitted us.
"If you require a completely well-educated young lady—a gentlewoman in every sense of the term—you cannot do better than engage Miss Hereford," said Mademoiselle Annette.
"But what's her religion?" abruptly asked Mrs. Paler. "I would not admit a Roman Catholic into the bosom of my family; no, not though she paid me to come. Designing Jesuits, as a great many of them are!"
Which, considering she was speaking to a Roman Catholic, and that a moment's consideration might have told her she was, evinced anything but courtesy on the lady's part, to say nothing of good feeling. Mademoiselle Annette's brown cheek deepened, and so did mine.
"I belong to the Church of England, madam," I answered.
"And with regard to singing?" resumed Mrs. Paler, passing to another qualification unceremoniously. "Have you a fine voice?—a good style?—can you teach it well?"