“She acted as if she were going,” replied the waiter.
“Go back quickly, and say that I will be down in a moment.”
A gleam of satisfaction shot across the face of Mrs. Dainty.
“My new English governess!” she ejaculated, in a low tone, as the waiter left the room. “I’ll soon have a new order of things with the children!”
After slightly adjusting her dress, which had become disarranged during her sleep in the easy-chair, Mrs. Dainty put on as grave an air of dignity as she could assume, and went down to the parlor. As she entered, a tall woman dressed in black arose, and stood, awaiting her approach, with a half proud, half deferential air, fixing upon her at the same time two small, gray, piercing eyes, that seemed to go right through Mrs. Dainty. Her widow’s weeds, as the waiter had informed his mistress, were a little rusty; and the same might be said of her complexion. Her nose was rather a marked feature for prominence and size; her lips were delicate in comparison with the rest of her face, and had a certain flexibility which showed them to be quick indicators of feeling. The whole aspect of the face made upon Mrs. Dainty, at the first glance, rather an unfavorable impression; and she seemed to be pushed from rather than drawn toward the woman.
“Mrs. Jeckyl?” she said, assuming a frank, smiling courtesy, as she came forward and offered her hand.
“My name.” And the visitor bowed with a reserved dignity, giving only the tips of her fingers to Mrs. Dainty.
“Mrs. Ashton desired you to call?”
“Yes, ma’am. She said you were about changing your governess, and would like to see me on the subject.”
The woman’s manner a little embarrassed Mrs. Dainty: there was in it an air of conscious superiority that rather overawed her.