"Well, I think that is all. Good-bye, my little woman, then. Good-bye, my darling. She will be a good girl, I am sure, Miss Aspinall; she has been a dear good child at home."
His voice was on the point of breaking, but the governess stood there stonily. His praise of me was not the way to win her favour. I do believe she would have liked me better if he had said I had been so naughty and troublesome at home that he trusted the discipline of school would do me good. And when I glanced up at Miss Aspinall's face, something seemed to choke down the sob which was beginning again to rise in my throat.
"GOOD-BYE!"
"Good-bye, my own little girl," said father. One more kiss and he was gone.
My luggage was in the hall—which was really a passage scarcely deserving the more important name—and beside it stood Lydia. Miss Aspinall looked at her coldly.
"Who——" she began, when I interrupted her.
"It's Lydia," I said. "She's come to unpack my things. Mamma sent her."
"Come to unpack your things," repeated the governess. "There must be some mistake—that is quite unnecessary. There is no occasion for you to wait," she said to poor Lydia, with a slight gesture towards the door.