“We might be daily governesses, and live at home,” suggested Dulce, who found a sort of relief in throwing out feelers in every direction. Nan brightened up visibly at this, but Phillis’s moody brow did not relax for a moment.
“That would be nice,” acquiesced Nan, “and then mother would not find the day so long if we came home in the evening; she could busy herself about the house, and we could leave her little things to do, and she would not find the hours so heavy. I like that idea of yours, Dulce; and we are all so fond of children.”
“The idea is as nice as possible,” replied Phillis, with an ominous stress on the noun, “if we could only make it practicable.”
“Phil is going to find fault,” pouted Dulce, who knew every inflection of Phillis’s voice.
“Oh, dear, no, nothing of the kind!” she retorted, briskly. “Nan is quite right: we all dote on children. I should dearly like to be a governess myself; it would be more play than work; but I am only wondering who would engage us.”
“Who?—oh, anybody!” returned Nan, feeling puzzled by the smothered satire of Phillis’s speech. “Of course we are not certificated, and I for one could only teach young children; but––” here Phillis interrupted her:
“Don’t think me horrid if I ask you and Dulce some questions, but do—do answer me just as though I were going through the Catechism: we are only girls, but we must sift the whole thing thoroughly. Are we fit for governesses? what can you and I and Dulce teach?”
“Oh, anything!” returned Nan, still more vaguely.
“My dear Nanny, anything won’t do. Come, I am really in earnest; I mean to catechise you both thoroughly.”
“Very well,” returned Nan, in a resigned voice; but Dulce looked a little frightened. As for Phillis, she sat erect, with her finger pointed at them in a severely ominous fashion. 54