mrs. clinton sat in lady birkett's drawing-room prepared to interview, one by one, twenty or more of the ladies who had answered her advertisement for a governess for the twins. she expected to devote two consecutive mornings to her task, and was prepared to listen, to weigh, and to judge with all her faculties alert. on the table by her side was an orderly pile of letters, most of them running to two or three sheets of notepaper. they were the residuum of some scores, and she had read the contents of each several times over.
punctually on the stroke of ten entered miss winifred player, twenty-five, french, german, and italian, elementary hebrew, music, drawing, thorough english and composition, botany, physiology, dancing and calisthenics, needlework, swimming, elementary bookkeeping and typewriting; daughter of a clergyman of the church of england; bright, persevering, and makes friends with pupils (see testimonials); bicycles, good walker, tennis. it was astonishing that she should have acquired so much learning during her short term of life, and also spent eight years in imparting it. she proved to be a self-confident young woman with a voluble tongue, and mrs. clinton had only to sit and listen to her while she made it quite plain that she would not do at all. but by way of gaining experience which might be useful in dealing with further applicants, mrs. clinton asked her a few questions when a lull in the storm of words allowed her an opportunity, going through her list of "subjects" from the letter she held in her hand.
miss player, it seemed, had not studied the languages she offered abroad. she had been neither to france, germany, italy, nor syria. french she had learned at school, german and italian she had taught herself in spare moments. hebrew—well, she had hardly supposed hebrew would be wanted, but she had put that in because she had learnt the letters and helped her father by copying. she knew the greek alphabet too. thorough english meant that she was fond of reading, and had once reviewed a novel for a parish magazine. she had the article in her little handbag, and offered it as corroborating evidence. botany and physiology she had "studied." but she seemed rather anxious to get away from her "subjects." "i always get on with my pupils," she said, "and i don't mind making myself useful in the house. in fact, i enjoy doing so, and feeling that i am one of the family. how old are your little girls, mrs. clinton?"
"they are fifteen," replied mrs. clinton. "i am afraid your accomplishments are not quite what i want."
there came a sudden droop. miss player was "bright" no longer, but plainly dejected.
"you offer a very high salary," she said somewhat inconsequently.
"yes, you see i want a lady of high education."
"i'm bright in the house," said the girl.
mrs. clinton could not repress a smile. "i hope you will get a good place where your qualities will be valued," she said, and miss player left her.
the interview had only lasted five minutes, and mrs. clinton had allowed fifteen for each. she went to find her sister-in-law. "i think you had better come and support me," she said, "and i think you will be amused." so when miss janet phipp was shown in she found herself confronted by two ladies instead of one, and both of them asked her questions.
miss phipp was thirty, very plain—there was no denying that—but also on her own showing very competent. she had been educated at a high school, and had taken the degree of bachelor of arts at the london university. she had taught in a high school ever since, but the work was rather too hard for her. her doctor had advised her to go into the country and avoid the strain of night as well as day work. "i am not an invalid," she said quietly, "and my health would give you no trouble."
there was no doubt about her capacity, but she was quite uninspiring. mrs. clinton hesitated. "have you been used to living in the country?" she asked.
"oh no," said miss phipp. "i told you—i have been at the high school for eight years. in my holidays i went abroad mostly, or to my home in manchester, as long as my parents were alive."
"i am afraid you would find it very dull," said mrs. clinton.
"i think not," she said. "but it wouldn't much matter if i did, would it, as long as i did my work well? i can teach, and i like teaching."
"my daughters are active young persons," said mrs. clinton. "they are out of doors a great deal. do you play golf, or lawn tennis, or anything of that sort?"
miss phipp's face hardened a little. "i don't care about games," she said. "i have always put work first. i would undertake to make your girls work, and if i were to look after them in their play-time—wouldn't that be all that would be wanted?"
"i think not," said mrs. clinton. "i want them to work, but i want some one who would be a pleasant companion for them too, out of lesson hours."
"did you find it easy to make friends with your pupils at the school?" asked lady birkett.
"a few of them," said miss phipp. "the ones who wanted to get on. i used to have them in my rooms to help them. with the others i found it best to keep to work alone. i got more out of them that way. after school hours they went their own way and i went mine."
"but that is just what you couldn't do in a private family," urged mrs. clinton. "you wouldn't have to be always with the children, but you would be much more with them than with girls you taught in a school."
"yes. i know that," said miss phipp. "only i don't want to give you a wrong impression of myself. i would do my best to make friends with your girls, only i fancy it would rest with them more than with me. some teachers find it quite easy to have girls hanging on to them and adoring them, and my experience is that work suffers on account of it. i wouldn't go anywhere where work wasn't the chief thing."
when she had gone out mrs. clinton said, "it is really very puzzling. i'm not at all sure that she wouldn't do, although she is far from being the sort of governess i had pictured."
"we shall do better," said lady birkett. "there are plenty more to see yet."
the next to arrive was miss judith gay, twenty-three, pretty and rather shy, daughter of an admiral deceased, perfect french, good piano and singing, otherwise not up to the mark scholastically.
"if it were only a companion we wanted!" said mrs. clinton when she had gone out.
"the twins would love her," said lady birkett, "but they would twist her round their little fingers."
miss ella charman was the next arrival. she was thirty-four, well dressed, and talked after the manner of a lady of fashion. it was apparently her object to set both mrs. clinton and lady birkett thoroughly at their ease, and establish intimate relations before coming to business. "i have never been in that part of the world," she said when she had enquired where mrs. clinton lived, "but i know the palmers very well. i think they live in meadshire, don't they?"
"not in our part of meadshire," replied mrs. clinton. "at least i do not know the name."
"oh, you would know them, i should think, if they lived near you," said miss charman. "she was a daughter of sir james farley. lady farley was a sister of mrs. bingham, with whom i lived. mr. bingham, you know, is a brother of lord howley's. little edward, whom i taught until he went to school, will be lord howley some day. i was sorry to leave the binghams, but edward was the only child, and had to be sent to school, of course. do you know lord dorman, mrs. clinton?"
"no," said that lady, taking up a letter, "you have not mentioned——"
"i thought you might," interrupted miss charman. "he is only a new creation, of course. he was sir john thompson, the engineer or contractor or something; mrs. cottering told me that he had paid a hundred thousand pounds into the funds of the liberal party, and got his peerage in that way. the dormans were very anxious that i should go to them and take sole charge of their adopted niece. they have no children living of their own. mrs. dappering told me that it was a great sorrow to them. their only son was killed in the war. do you know lady edith chippering?"
"no," said mrs. clinton. "are you still thinking of going to——"
"she was a daughter of the earl of havering. i thought you might. she was staying with the binghams just before i left them. she did say something about my going to her. of course the dormans would be more—— by the way, do you know the lodderings? don't they live in meadshire?"
mrs. clinton did not answer this question. "i have a good many people to see, miss charman," she said. "i think we had better talk about—about our business, hadn't we?"
"oh, certainly," said miss charman. "should i have my meals with the family or not? that is rather a point with me. at the cotterings' i had everything sent up and lived entirely in the schoolroom, which i don't think a good arrangement. one gets dull and mopy, you know. at the binghams' i was one of the family, and used to help mr. bingham with his farm accounts after dinner; in fact, he used to call me his secretary. he would look after everything on his property himself. would there be anything of that sort i could help mr. clinton in, do you think? i don't know whether he has landed property or not, but i should be delighted to do anything i could to help him."
"you were asking about meals," said mrs. clinton. "you would have breakfast and luncheon with us, and you would dine upstairs. now will you kindly tell me what subjects you can teach?"
"oh, the usual subjects," said miss charman. "i am a bachelor of arts of london university, you know, honours in french and mathematics. and there are the training certificates. you have all that, haven't you? i got hilda cottering into girton. her father didn't want her to go. with all that money coming he thought it was waste of time. but she was a clever girl, and we used to do a great deal of work, and have a great deal of fun besides. she married young spencer-morton, you know, the nephew of lord pickering. do you know the pickerings, by any chance?"
and so it went on, and would have gone on interminably had not mrs. clinton at last risen and held out her hand as token of dismissal. miss charman retired affably, saying that she supposed she should hear in a day or two. she knew mrs. clinton must get through her list first, but she should be glad to come to her, and she would no doubt let her know the date later on.
when she had left them the two ladies looked at one another and laughed. "how delighted edward would be with that flow of conversation!" said lady birkett. "it would be worth while engaging her if only to see his face when she asked him if he knew the potterings."
"miss phipp is the only possible one so far," said mrs. clinton.
miss margaret cunningham was the next. twenty-five, with an excellent record, nice-mannered and good-looking, but the unfortunate possessor of a cockney accent of remarkably pungency. she had been a "dyly" governess only, in "straoud" green, where she lived, but her father had married again and she was not happy at home. her father was scotch. "i don't think i've got his accent, though," she said, with a smile. if she had she might have beaten miss phipp out of the field. her own made her impossible.
miss clara weyerhauser was young, but spectacled, short-haired and mannishly clothed. "edward would roar the house down if i took her to kencote," said mrs. clinton, when the tale of her numerous attainments had been extracted from her and she had stamped out of the room.
"it seemed odd that she should keep her hat on in the house," said lady birkett.
miss mary mansell was too nervous, miss gladys whiting too delicate-looking to make it likely that they could cope successfully with the twins. then came miss jessie barton. she was forty-two, and looked older, a lady by birth and in speech and manner, but poorly dressed, thin and worn. she had been teaching for over twenty years in good families, and had the best of references to show from each, but admitted, with a flush on her pale cheeks, that she had left her last place, over a year before, because the girls she had taught wanted a finishing governess.
"but that is just what i want for my girls," said mrs. clinton.
"ah, but they are younger," she said eagerly. "really, i am sure i could get them on well, mrs. clinton. and i am as strong and active as ever i was, and much more experienced. i am just coming to the time when it will be difficult to get work, and if i don't get work i must starve. i have no home to go to now, and very few friends."
"i know those are the hardships of your calling," said mrs. clinton gently. "but i can't let them weigh with me, can i? i must do the best i can for my children."
"well, i think a woman of my age can do better for them than a younger one with less experience," said the poor lady. "i do hope you won't let my age stand in the way, mrs. clinton. i haven't taken a day off, as some women do. i am no older than i say."
"if i hadn't been ready to take a woman of your age, other things being equal, i shouldn't have asked you to come and see me," said mrs. clinton. "but i cannot decide anything until i have seen every one i have written to."
"ah well!" she said, with a sigh. "i know you won't choose me, or you would have told me more about the children, and what you wanted. i suppose i must go on with the weary round until i drop."
"it is very depressing, poor thing!" said mrs. clinton when she had gone. "but i can't possibly engage a governess out of motives of pity."
"she would be all right for younger children," said lady birkett. "it is hard that she should begin to find it difficult to get work at that age."
miss gertrude wilson, twenty-nine, was brisk and business-like. she would have made an excellent commercial traveller, taking it cheerfully for granted when she entered a shop that she was going to get an order, and not leaving it until she had got one. it was she who asked the questions, not in the manner of miss player, obsessed by her own personality and experiences, but rather like a doctor, anxious thoroughly to diagnose a case so that he might do the best he could for his patient.
"now i should like to know, first of all," she said, "what the characters of your girls are like, mrs. clinton. then one can form some idea as to how to treat them."
"they are physically active," said mrs. clinton; "mentally too, especially nancy, who has developed greatly within the last year. she is a clever child, and is beginning to take a great interest in books, and i think one might say in everything she finds inside them."
"ah, a student!" said miss wilson. "one ought not to let her overdo that at her age, although one must take pains to encourage her in anything she wants to take up, and try and concentrate her upon it. i don't believe much in desultory reading. i should feel inclined to curb that. but that is not quite what i want to know. i can deal with all that when i see the girls. it is their dispositions i want to get at. are they bright as a general rule, or inclined to be subdued?"
"not at all inclined to be subdued," said lady birkett, with a laugh.
"not spoilt, i hope?" asked miss wilson. "if they are, please say so. i can deal with them all right."
"i don't think they are spoilt," said mrs. clinton. "they are both affectionate, and easily managed by any one they love. they are apt to be mischievous, perhaps, although they are growing out of that now. they are rather overfond of making fun of people, but i think no one would call them ill-natured."
"well, that is a very satisfactory report on the whole," said miss wilson. "i expect i shall get fond of them. i generally do get fond of my pupils, and they of me. may i ask what other members of your family there are, mrs. clinton—brothers or sisters, older or younger?"
"joan and nancy are the only ones regularly at home," replied mrs. clinton.
"oh! no brothers at school coming home for the holidays?"
"no," said mrs. clinton.
"it is apt to make things difficult sometimes. girls get out of hand. are there older brothers, may i ask?"
"yes, but you would see little of them, miss wilson. you need not take them into account."
by the look of miss wilson's face, it might have been gathered that she would have preferred to take them into account, at any rate to the extent of hearing a little more about them. but her momentary dejection disappeared. she had to keep her control of the situation. "and now as to hours," she said. "my plan would be to work the whole of the morning, with perhaps a quarter of an hour off for a glass of milk and a rock cake or something of that sort—say from nine o'clock to lunch time; exercise and games in the afternoon, till four. then three hours' work, with tea in between, and i should expect the girls to do an hour or so's preparation later in the evening. they do not dine with you, of course."
"they come down to dessert," said mrs. clinton.
"that would be about eight o'clock, i suppose. we can just fit in the other hour before they go to bed. i should like them to go to bed not later than half-past nine, and——"
"i like them to go to bed at nine," mrs. clinton managed to break in. "and they would not do any work after they have come downstairs; there would not be time."
"oh, well, we can settle all that later," miss wilson handsomely conceded. "i shall do my very best to get them on, mrs. clinton. wednesdays and saturdays i suppose we shall have half-holidays, or do you prefer a whole holiday on saturday? perhaps we had better settle that later too; it is all one to me. i shall do my best to fit in with the ways of the house. shall you wish me to take my meals downstairs?"
"breakfast and luncheon, yes," said mrs. clinton. "you would dine in the schoolroom."
miss wilson's face again fell. but she said, "that will suit me very well. i shall have time for my own reading when the children have gone to bed. when shall you wish me to come?"
"if i engage you, about the tenth. now i should like to ask you a few questions, if you are ready to answer them."
the cross-examination miss wilson underwent as to her scholastic attainments and previous experience, at the hands of both ladies, was somewhat searching, and she came through it admirably. she was, in fact, the ideal governess, as far as could be seen. and yet, neither of them liked her, and they would have been pleased rather than regretful to find some flaw which would give them an excuse to reject her. "well," said mrs. clinton at last, "i have others to see, but i will take up your references and write to you in a few days. you have given me all the addresses, i suppose?" she took up miss wilson's letter, which was shorter than the rest, confining itself to one sheet of note-paper.
"yes, you will find them there," said miss wilson, rising a little hurriedly. "then i shall hope to hear from you, and i will say good-morning, mrs. clinton."
mrs. clinton ignored her outstretched hand. "i will just pencil the dates at which you were with these three families," she said. "mrs. waterhouse was the first."
"oh, i am very bad at dates," said miss wilson. "but they are all in order. you will have no difficulty."
mrs. clinton looked at her in mild surprise. "surely you remember the number of years you were with each family," she said.
"oh, i dare say i can remember that," she said, with a rather nervous laugh. "i was with mrs. waterhouse about three years, mrs. simkinson one and a half, i think it was."
"that is all i wanted to know," said mrs. clinton, but lady birkett asked, "are those three all the posts you have filled?"
miss wilson, who was still standing, drew herself up stiffly. "i was with some other people for about a year," she said. "but they were intensely disagreeable people, and i should be very sorry to have to rely on a testimonial from them. they behaved atrociously to me."
"in what way?" asked mrs. clinton.
"i prefer not to say," said miss wilson firmly. "i have no wish to talk about those people at all. i only wish to forget them. if you will take up the references i have given you i think you will know everything about me that you have a right to ask, and you will find it thoroughly satisfactory; and anything else i shall be pleased to tell you."
"i think, then, i must ask why you left these people. were they the last you were with?"
"yes," said miss wilson, "they were; and the whole subject is so painful to me that i must refuse to go into it."
"you will not give me the name, so that i can at least hear their side of the story?"
"certainly not, mrs. clinton," replied miss wilson indignantly. "if those are the only conditions on which i may accept your offer, then i must refuse it altogether."
"i haven't made you an offer yet," said mrs. clinton, "and of course, under the circumstances, i cannot do so. so i will wish you good-morning."
miss wilson seemed about to say something more, but changed her mind and left the room with her head in the air.
the two ladies looked at one another. "what on earth can it have been?" asked mrs. clinton.
"carrying on," replied lady birkett, with a laugh. "i can see it now. she's the sort that carries on. the details we must leave to the imagination, but we're well rid of her."
