“I do.”
“I know why.”
In the course of their experience, Mrs. Gallilee and Miss Minerva had once quarrelled fiercely—and Mrs. Gallilee had got the worst of it. She learnt her lesson. For the future she knew how to deal with her governess. When one said, “I know why,” the other only answered, “Do you?”
“Let’s have it out plainly, ma’am,” Miss Minerva proceeded. “I am not to let Mr. Ovid” (she laid a bitterly strong emphasis on the name, and flushed angrily)—“I am not to let Mr. Ovid and Miss Carmina be alone together.”
“You are a good guesser,” Mrs. Gallilee remarked quietly.
“No,” said Miss Minerva more quietly still; “I have only seen what you have seen.”
“Did I tell you what I have seen?”
“Quite needless, ma’am. Your son is in love with his cousin. When am I to be ready?”
The bland mistress mentioned the hour. The rude governess left the room.
Mrs. Gallilee looked at the closing door with a curious smile. She had already suspected Miss Minerva of being crossed in love. The suspicion was now confirmed, and the man was discovered.