wed. Lady Thetford rose to close the interview.

"You must need refreshment and rest after your journey. I will not
detain you longer. To-morrow your duties commence."

She rang the bell--directed the servant who came to show the governess
to the east parlor and to see to her wants, and then to send nurse for
the children. Fifteen minutes after she drove away in the pony-phaeton;
whilst the new governess stood by the window of the east parlor and
watched her vanish in the amber haze of the August sunset.

Lady Thetford's business in St. Gosport detained her a couple of hours.
The big, white, August moon was rising as she drove slowly homeward, and
the nightingales sang their vesper lay in the scented hedge-rows. As she
passed the rectory, she saw Mr. Knight leaning over his own gate,
enjoying the placid beauty of the summer evening; and Lady Thetford
reined in her ponies to speak to him.

"So happy to see your ladyship. Won't you alight and come in? Mrs.
Knight will be delighted."

"Not this evening, I think. Had you much trouble about my business?"

"I had applications enough, certainly," laughed the rector. "I had
reason to remember Mr. Weller's immortal advice, 'Beware of widders.'
How do you like your governess?"

"I have hardly had time to form an opinion. She is younger than I should
desire."

"She looks much younger than the age she gives, I know; but that is a
common case. I trust my choice will prove satisfactory--her references
are excellent. Your ladyship has had an interview with her?"

"A very brief one. Her manner struck me unpleasantly--so odd, and shy,
and nervous. I hardly know how to characterize it; but she may be a
paragon of governesses, for all that. Good-evening; best regards to Mrs.
Knight. Call soon and see how your _protege_ gets on."

Lady Thetford drove away. As she alighted from the pony-carriage and
ascended the great front steps of the house, she saw the pale governess
still seated at the window of the east parlor, gazing dejectedly out at
the silvery moonlight.

"A most woeful countenance," thought my lady. "There is some deeper
grief than the loss of a husband and child eight years ago, the matter
with that woman. I don't like her."

No, Lady Thetford did not like the meek and submissive-looking
governess, but the children and the rest of the household did. Sir
Rupert and little May took to her at once--her gentle voice, her tender
smile seemed to win its way to their capri