There was considerable modification in the tone and manner of Mrs. Jeckyl. She saw that she had shown her rough side a little too plainly, and that there were reasons why Mrs. Dainty could not ignore Uncle John altogether.
“You must bear as kindly as possible with his peculiarities. He means well,” said Mrs. Dainty, as a very feeling sense of her many obligations to Uncle John, past, present, and to come, grew distinct in her mind.
“He won’t trouble me any.” Mrs. Jeckyl smiled in a lamb-like way,—or, rather, tried so to smile. But the effort was one so unusual to her that she failed in the result; and Mrs. Dainty was in some doubt as to the meaning of the curious expression that came into the woman’s face. She had visited the room of Mrs. Jeckyl for the purpose of having a very free talk about Uncle John, and also for the purpose of settling with that lady some very decided plans of operation in regard to him. But the spirit in which Mrs. Jeckyl showed herself disposed to act rather cooled her ardor, and set her to thinking in a new direction.
The conference closed almost abruptly, and little to the satisfaction of either party. Mrs. Dainty more than half repented of her hasty action in taking this strange woman into the house and giving over her children to a guardianship and an influence that might be for evil instead of good. When her husband questioned her, she put as bold a face upon the matter as was possible,—denouncing Miss Harper in unmeasured terms, and extolling the educated, accomplished English lady whom she had been so fortunate as to secure in her place.
“It is best, sometimes, to let well-enough alone,” said Mr. Dainty, on learning from his wife the change she had seen proper to make in a matter of so much importance. “And I think Miss Harper was at least well enough.”
This was all he remarked, and Mrs. Dainty saw it best to leave the matter, so far as he was concerned, just there. His easy indifference left her generally free to do about as she pleased: so, whenever he failed of prompt acquiescence in any course she designed to take, she pursued the easy policy of not disturbing his mind on the subject.
“Oh, she’s hateful! I’ll get a gun and shoot her!” It was little George who thus freely expressed his indignant appreciation of the new governess. He was talking to Madeline; and they were near enough to their mother’s door to be heard distinctly.
“I wish Miss Harper was back again,” said Madeline. Her voice had a mournful sound in the ears of Mrs. Dainty. “I loved her so.”
“Miss Harper was good, but this old woman is hateful. What made you sit in her lap and lean your head against her?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t help it,” replied Madeline, still speaking in a kind of plaintive way. “I wish mother would send her out of the house. I’m afraid of her.”