“Poor dear Herbert!” she said tenderly. “After we have been eight years married, is he really afraid that I shall be jealous? Mamma! Why are you looking so serious?”
Mrs. Presty took the telegram from her daughter and read extracts from it with indignant emphasis of voice and manner.
“Travels in the same train with him. Very young, and very inexperienced. And he sympathizes with her. Ha! I know the men, Catherine—I know the men!”
Chapter II. The Governess Enters.
Mr. Herbert Linley arrived at his own house in the forenoon of the next day. Mrs. Linley, running out to the head of the stairs to meet her husband, saw him approaching her without a traveling companion. “Where is the governess?” she asked—when the first salutes allowed her the opportunity of speaking.
“On her way to bed, poor soul, under the care of the housekeeper,” Linley answered.
“Anything infectious, my dear Herbert?” Mrs. Presty inquired appearing at the breakfast-room door.
Linley addressed his reply to his wife:
“Nothing more serious, Catherine, than want of strength. She was in such a state of fatigue, after our long night journey, that I had to lift her out of the carriage.”