"I am anxious to stay," said Elizabeth simply.
"Whether you stay or go, I consider that you owe me an apology."
"I'll give it very gladly, for a great deal that I've said must have seemed to you unwarrantable," Elizabeth replied.
Mrs. Ogden was silent. She longed to tell Elizabeth to go now at once, but her rage was subsiding. Colonel Ogden was still ill and governesses were not to be found easily or cheaply in Seabourne, at least not with Elizabeth's qualifications. There were many things to consider, so many that they rushed in upon her, submerging her mind in a tide of difficulties—perhaps, after all, she would accept the apology for the moment, and bide her time, but forgive Elizabeth? Never!
Elizabeth left the room. "She won't dismiss me," she thought, "I'm cheap, and she won't find anyone else to take my post at my salary; but I shall have to be more careful in future, it won't do to play with cards on the table. I behaved like an impetuous fool this afternoon. What is it about Joan that makes a fool of one? I shall stop on here until Joan breaks free—I must help her to break free when the time comes."
3
That night when the doctor called to see the colonel, Mrs. Ogden asked him to examine Joan.
"My governess is rather inclined to overwork the child," she told him, "but I don't think you will find much wrong with her."
Joan, dutifully stripping to the waist, was sounded and pronounced by the doctor to be in practically normal health. Too thin and a little anæmic, perhaps, and the heart action just a little nervous, but Mrs. Ogden was assured that she had no grounds for anxiety. The doctor advised less study and more open air; he patted Joan's shoulder and remarked comfortingly that he only wished all his patients were such healthy specimens. Then he gave her a mild nerve tonic, told her to eat well and go to bed early, shook hands cordially with Mrs. Ogden and departed.