of course, Mr. Carter," said Mrs. Hilary.
"I'll write about it at once." And she looked at me as if she thought
that I might be about to go.

"It is a comprehensive curriculum," I remarked, crossing my legs, "if
one may judge from the results. How old are your younger sisters, Miss
Phyllis?"

"Fourteen and sixteen," she answered.

"It is a pity," said I, "that this didn't happen a little while back. I
knew a governess who would have suited the place to a t.'"

Mrs. Hilary smiled scornfully.

"We used to meet--" I continued.

"Who used to meet?" asked Miss Phyllis.

"The governess and myself, to be sure," said I, "under the old apple
tree in the garden at the back of the house."

"What house, Mr. Carter?"

"My father's house, of course, Miss Phyllis. And--"

"Oh, but that must be ages ago!" cried she.

Mrs. Hilary rose, cast one glance at me, and turned to the writing
table. Her pen began to scratch almost immediately.

"And under the apple tree," I pursued, "we had many pleasant
conversations."

"What about?" asked Miss Phyllis.

"One thing and another," I returned. "The schoolroom windows looked
out that way--a circumstance which made matters more comfortable for
everybody."

"I should have thought--" began Miss Phyllis, smiling slightly, but
keeping an apprehensive eye on Mrs. Hilary's back.

"Not at all," I interrupted. "My sisters saw us, you see. Well, of
course they entertained an increased respect for me, which was all
right, and a decreased respect for the governess, which was also all
right. We met in the hour allotted to French lessons--by an undesigned
but appropriate coincidence."

"I shall say about thirty-five, Phyllis," called Mrs. Hilary from the
writing table.

"Yes, Cousin Mary," called Miss Phyllis. "Did you meet often, Mr.
Carter?"

"Every evening in the French hour," said I.

"She'll have got over any nonsense by then," called Mrs. Hilary. "They
are often full of it."

"She had remarkably pretty hair," I continued; "very soft it was. Dear
me! I was just twenty."

"How old was she?" asked Miss Phyllis.

"One's first love," said I, "is never any age. Everything went very
well. Happiness was impossible. I was heartbroken, and the governess was
far from happy. Ah, happy, happy times!"

"But you don't seem to have been happy," objected Miss Phyllis.

"Then came a terrible evening--"

"She ought to be a person of active habits," called Mrs. Hilary.

"I think so, yes,