l Miss Fennimore had in despair decided
that English was the best alternative.

Phoebe practised vigorously. Aware that nothing pleasant was passing,
and that, be it what it might, she could do no good, she was glad to stop
her ears with her music, until eight o'clock brought a pause in the shape
of breakfast. Formerly the schoolroom party had joined the family meal,
but since the two elder girls had been out, and Mervyn's friends had been
often in the house, it had been decided that the home circle was too
numerous; and what had once been the play-room was allotted to be the
eating-room of the younger ones, without passing the red door, on the
other side of which lay the world.

Breakfast was announced by the schoolroom maid, and Miss Fennimore rose.
No sooner was her back turned, than Bertha indulged in a tremendous
writhing yawn, wriggling in her chair, and clenching both fat fists, as
she threatened with each, at her governess's retreating figure, so
ludicrously, that Phoebe smiled while she shook her head, and an
explosive giggle came from Maria, causing the lady to turn and behold
Miss Bertha demure as ever, and a look of disconsolate weariness fast
settling down on each of the two young faces. The unbroken routine
pressed heavily at those fit moments for family greetings and for
relaxation, and even Phoebe would gladly have been spared the German
account of the Holt and of Miss Charlecote's book, for which she was
called upon. Bertha meanwhile, to whom waggishness was existence, was
carrying on a silent drama on her plate, her roll being a quarry, and her
knife the workmen attacking it. Now she undermined, now acted an
explosion, with uplifted eyebrows and an indicated 'puff!' with her lips,
with constant dumb-show directed to Maria, who, without half
understanding, was in a constant suppressed titter, sometimes concealed
by her pocket-handkerchief.

Quick as Miss Fennimore was, and often as she frowned on Maria's
outbreaks, she never could detect their provocative. Over-restraint and
want of sympathy were direct instruction in unscrupulous slyness of
amusement. A sentence of displeasure on Maria's ill-mannered folly was
in the act of again filling her eyes with tears, when there was a knock
at the door, and all the faces beamed with glad expectation.

It was Robert. This was the time of day when he knew Miss Fennimore
could best tolerate him, and he seldom failed to make his appearance on
his way dow