“She didn’t bang the door,” the governess quietly remarked.
“I am not joking, Miss Minerva.”
“I am not joking either, madam.”
The tone of that answer implied an uncompromising assertion of equality. You are not to suppose (it said) that a lady drops below your level, because she receives a salary and teaches your children. Mrs. Gallilee was so angry, by this time, that she forgot the importance of preventing a conference between Miss Minerva and her niece. For once, she was the creature of impulse—the overpowering impulse to dismiss her insolent governess from her hospitable table.
“May I offer you another cup of tea?”
“Thank you—no more. May I return to my pupils?”
“By all means!”
Carmina had not been five minutes in her own room before she heard a knock at the door. Had Mrs. Gallilee followed her? “Who is there?” she asked. And a voice outside answered,
“Only Miss Minerva!”