Madeline threw her arms around her mother’s neck, and, kissing her, said, in a light, fluttering voice,—
“Oh, I’m so glad!” Then she flew away, like a happy bird in the warm spring sunshine.
“There is one thing very certain, Madeline,” said Mr. Dainty, as the child vanished from the room: “Miss Harper’s influence upon the children is good, and for their sakes, if no other considerations were urged, we had better let Uncle John have his way. We can tolerate her.”
Mrs. Dainty shook her head.
“Toleration is not going to do,” she answered. “Entire social equality is demanded; and nothing less will satisfy either of them.”
“I am not sure that Miss Harper has demanded any thing. Uncle John said she had not, and that she was here only upon his strong solicitation. It is barely possible, Madeline, that you have misunderstood her from the beginning. At least, one thing is now certain. Her social position will be changed by Uncle John’s formal adoption. She will be lifted to our level, and society will recognise her. So far we will be all right with the world.”
“There is something in that,” said Mrs. Dainty, a trifle softened. “But will she remain as governess to the children?”
“We can sink the word ‘governess.’ Let her be their companion and instructor.”
“Only another name for the same thing,” remarked Mrs. Dainty. “The position is menial.”
“I have thought differently, since Uncle John’s remarks a little while ago,” said Mr. Dainty. “They struck me as having great force.”