"Then, as to terms——"
"We shan't quarrel about terms. Come and stay with us as soon as you can, and we'll make everything comfortable and agreeable for you, and we'll settle about terms afterwards. Then, you know, we shall have private theatricals to amuse you."
In certain stories, and in not a few dramas, Annie Brunel had seen a perfect stranger suddenly determine to play the part of a special Providence towards the heroine; but she was lost in astonishment to meet that incomprehensible friend in real life. Here she was, however; and when it is manna that the clouds rain, there is little reason in putting up an umbrella.
Mrs. Hubbard rang the bell, and sent a servant for the children. They came trooping down to the drawing-room, pushing each other, and looking very shy and a trifle sulky.
"This is the lady who will help you with your lessons now, my dears, since Miss Betham has gone."
"Miss Betham hasn't gone—she is upstairs yet," said Master Alexander, "and she has just told Kate to fetch her her sherry."
"Ah, come to look after some music she has left behind, perhaps," said Mrs. Hubbard, with a significant nod to Annie.
"You will find the children very obedient," she continued, "and nothing shall be wanting to add to your comfort. May we conclude the bargain to be settled?"
"Certainly, so far as I am concerned," said the girl.
These were the agreeable tidings which awaited Mr. John Hubbard when he returned home that night.