Lady Dudgeon had only two children living--the aforesaid Sophia, and Caroline, who was two years younger than her sister. For their behoof it was that an engagement had been entered into with Olive Deane. They were two handsome, resolute girls, full of high spirits and mischief who looked upon governesses as their natural enemies. Three ladies of this profession they had already worried into resigning their position at Stammars, and they had looked forward with considerable glee to worrying Miss Deane in like manner.
It was on a complaint from Madame Ribaud, who was governess number two, respecting some terrible act of mutiny, that Sophia obtained a signal victory over her mother, and from that time she had never let go the advantage thus gained. In consequence of Madame's complaint, Lady Dudgeon had taken Sophia by the hand, and had led her away with the avowed intention of shutting her up in a certain dark closet under the stairs, and there leaving her to do penance during the whole of a long summer's day--a day when the sun was shining and all the birds in the shrubbery were calling to her to go out of doors and be one with them.
"Mamma, you are not going to shut me up in that horrid hole?" said Sophia, when the door had been flung open for her to enter.
"I certainly am going to shut you up here," said Lady Dudgeon, with a portentous shake of her head.
"Then do you know what I shall do, mamma?"
"I don't know what you will do, Sophia, neither do I care."
"You are going to have a dinner-party on Friday," said Sophia, with determination. "In the middle of the dinner I will walk into the room and tell everybody that you wear a wig and have five false teeth!"
Lady Dudgeon glared down into the girl's bold face as if she could hardly believe the evidence of her ears. What Sophia had just stated she had hitherto fondly believed to be a secret known to her husband and her maid alone.
"You naughty, vile girl," she stammered out. "I will send you right away from home to a school on the Continent, and you shall not come back any more until you are quite grown up."
"All right, mamma; I'll go," said the undaunted girl; "but I'll write to everybody by post and tell them about the wig and the teeth;" and, as Lady Dudgeon knew, her daughter was just the girl to carry out the threat. Her ladyship was puzzled. "Look here, mamma," said Sophy: "between you and me, Ribaud's nothing but an old stupid, and no more fit to be a governess than I am. You take my advice, and send her about her business. I'm going to get my rope and have a jolly skip round the laurels."