Sir Basil was regarding her in astonishment, and had Anne’s gaze not been directed at her hands, she might have noticed a very different kind of smile come over his face. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and when the young lady looked up again, the Baronet was wearing his old, stiff expression. He coughed once, looked embarrassed, and muttered, “Never mind, never mind. In any case, we have veered away from the subject. It was, I believe, Miss Lessington’s education. I see that Lady Cardovan was not mistaken in calling you unusual. Indeed, I do not know much about other governesses, but I suppose they cannot all be like you.”
“If you had rather I did not teach Nicole history, Sir——” exclaimed Anne, colouring. But she was cut off.
“No! No! I did not mean to criticize your methods. You must be the expert in this case. I suppose, as you say, I do not know much about females. Well, well! What I really wished to know was—” and now Sir Basil, who could not possibly have looked more uncomfortable, cleared his throat and gave her a pleading look—“what sort of role I ought to take in all of this? Lady Cardovan has hinted to me that I ought to do more; but in truth, I am quite perplexed about it What, Miss Calder, do you suggest?”
Anne very nearly took pity upon the man now, seeing him look as helpless and innocent as a baby. She could not help softening a little from her former rage, and looked down to hide a smile.
“That you behave as kindly as possible to Nicole,” said she at last. “The poor child must be exceedingly lonely, and more unhappy than her pride will let her admit. She has been asked to do what many adults would find difficult—to go from her old home, and a way of life she understood, to something quite different. If she is sometimes a little absurd in her idea of what is required of her, she must be excused, and her only guide till now has been a father who cannot have known how much he asked of her. I cannot help but condemn Mr. Lessington in my heart for having laid such great plans for his daughter, but I suppose he meant well. Our own greatest help to her must be to let her see that she is loved, exactly as she is.” Anne looked up to see what Sir Basil’s reaction was and seeing only an intent, curious look upon his face, rushed on, “Sir Basil, I hope you will not think I am too bold, but what Nicole needs most of all is a father! I believe she misses her own papa more than she will admit, and longs for the same kind of affection she had from him. You could not do better than to try, as much as you can, to let her see that you like her.”
“Why! I do not dislike her, Miss Calder!” responded Sir Basil, amazed. “To be sure, she has got some rather peculiar notions, but she is a perfectly amiable little girl. I do not know sometimes what to make of her rambling little speeches, and to be perfectly truthful, I have already taken a keen dislike to her papa. I never heard so many smug pronouncements in all my life. But as to Miss Lessington, why, I suppose she is as well as most little girls.”
“A great deal more so,” replied Anne earnestly. “Believe me, Sir Basil, she is a little jewel, and if you will only show her that you are fond of her, you will see her sparkle.”
Sir Basil turned away to fill his glass. His voice, when he spoke, was muffled.
“Do you suppose she really cares much?” he inquired. “She seems such an independent little thing.”
“Cares! Why, she cares more what you think about her than anything in the world!”
“Indeed?” Sir Basil looked incredulous, but rather pleased. “Well, then, Miss Calder, I am very glad that we had this little chat. Well, well. Do you suppose she would enjoy visiting Carlton House?” he inquired suddenly.
“More than anything!”
“Ah! Well then, suppose we visit Prinney one day next week? His Highness is a great admirer of children. In point of fact, he expressed a desire to see Miss Lessington the moment he heard about her.”
“I shall tell Nicole at once, Sir Basil. I think she will be even more delighted than I am.”
Anne had risen from her place on the sofa and, setting down her glass, now moved to the door. She stood there for a moment, waiting for a dismissal. Sir Basil seemed to hesitate, but having opened his mouth as if to say something, merely nodded.
“Thank you, Miss Calder,” said he, and with a stiff bow turned away. There was nothing left for Anne to do but make her curtsey and quit the room.
Chapter IX
Anne went away from this interview very well pleased with herself. If she could not conceive of ever actually liking Sir Basil herself, at least she now had the satisfaction of seeing that she might influence his conduct toward his ward. She had been quick to understand, as soon as she had met him, that Lady Cardovan had not exaggerated her description of him. A rigid and determined bachelor he certainly was, and lacking any of that softness or flexibility of manner which is generally acquired in a man through marriage and fatherhood. In the Ambassador’s case, it had struck her instantly, this rigidity was made more profound by his natural temperament. He was certainly not one of your amiable and easy-going fellows: His inbred stiffness had been increased, no doubt, by long years of being accustomed to subservience in all around him. It was not unnatural that such a man should find it difficult to change all at once so late in life. Sir Basil could not be above five or six and thirty, and yet he seemed much older, if only because he so distinctly lacked any of that trace of humour or capacity to be astounded which are the marks of youth at any age. To be sure, she had dearly wished to laugh out loud at his awkwardness! How taken aback he had been by her arguments! Well, she had learned her lesson upon that head: She could see they would never agree upon any subject, for the Baronet was so thoroughly entrenched in his ideas, and so fond of his own prejudices, that he would never be capable of changing them. But, if she could persuade him at least to be a little more kind to his ward, she should have done all she wished. What cared she what his opinion was of her, so long as he did not make the child’s life miserable? Already she was sorry she had gone as far as she had done with her own opinions. She must remember in the future to confine her exchanges with him to the subject of their one mutual interest—Nicole—for Sir Basil must always regard her as no more than a governess, little better than a servant, and expert in nothing save the tutoring of a child. She had seen at once how odd he thought her ideas.
“He must think I am some sort of eccentric spinster who must justify my state by perverse arguments,” she said to herself with a laugh. “Well, and perhaps I am! Most certainly I am! But not for all the world would I exchange my situation for that of one of those females he scorns so thoroughly. Lord, what an idea! Only fancy thinking we are all of us bent on nothing but marrying, and are reduced to misery if we do not! I wonder how he thinks we get along in life?”
And Anne could only laugh to herself at his opinions, for it was certainly better than being angry. She saw she would have to draw upon all her resources of humour if she was not to be mortified by this experience. “I must keep it firmly in mind that my present situation is only temporary: a sort of bitter interlude, to pay for my later freedom. And whenever I am in danger of weakening, I shall just remember that I might, at this moment, be a Mrs. Siddons, mortified perpetually, and with no hope of an escape.”
The idea was perfectly sobering. Even as she climbed the stairs to Nicole’s chamber, she could not help but admit that Sir Basil had been more lenient than he might have been, considering the freedom with which she had expressed her ideas. It was certainly fortunate that he had no greater experience of what a governess ought to be than she did herself! She could well imagine how the task before her might then have been complicated! But as it was, she thought she could go along perfectly well if only she was careful and avoided any further confrontations with the Baronet. This did not seem like an impossible plan, for she doubted very much that he would seek out her company again, unless it were absolutely necessary.
“Altogether, my girl,” she said to herself, “you have been very fortunate: You have got just the situation from which to observe the Great World, and all the peop
le in it, and with not much of hardship attached. You would be wise to balk at nothing, but rather take advantage of every opportunity to observe the order of a universe much greater than the one you are accustomed to. In truth, I am tempted to believe I was sent to Sir Basil by a stroke of fate, for I am already inclined toward making him a hero of a novel!”
And this idea, the seed of which had been planted at the first moment of her clapping eyes upon the Baronet, had grown steadily in her mind since then. The more she thought upon it, the more she liked it, for it combined just those elements of high comedy, satire, and human fallibility which had characterized her first endeavour, and which was admirably suited to her style of writing. Who would have thought she would find in His Excellency, the Ambassador to France, a comic hero? And yet, as she had often observed to Ben, it was just such kind of surprises which made the real world more interesting than the common run of romance would lead one to believe. In novels, heroes were generally portrayed as handsome, dashing, and incapable of awkwardness. Their love affairs were carried off without a hitch, and their tragedies were profound. Nowhere had she seen a pair of lips that looked like rose petals, although in novels heroines were forever portrayed as possessing them. She had seen beautiful women with lips the colour of brick, and it had not dimmed their beauty one whit. Why, therefore, should a hero always be infallible? It seemed to Anne that, on the contrary, she would be far more amused by a perfectly fallible one, a Baronet, let us say, with a lofty position in the world, whose confidence was shattered by the thought of speaking to a governess, or conversing with a child of nine. A determined bachelor would do very nicely, for he would of course be the envy of every mama in the ton, and his tranquility would be put to the test at every turn by the exertions of their daughters. There ought certainly to be a love story in it, thought Anne, which certainly presented a problem, for the mere idea of Sir Basil Ives mooning over some poor young lady made her laugh. She would certainly have to observe him very closely, to see how he fended off the advances of his admirers. He must have them: she doubted not, but that so eligible a man as the Baronet must have caused havoc amongst the unmarried ladies of London and their mamas when he had returned from France, still single and without any intention of being otherwise. Certainly he disliked women, and considered them all, with the exception of Lady Cardovan, foolish and dull. However little his manner might appeal to her, and however much he might lack in every other appealing quality, Anne could well imagine that there were some females less scrupulous than herself. In every outward wise, he would make an exceptionally eligible husband: rich, handsome, respected, and well-connected. Some ladies might not blink at the idea of swallowing his coldness, so long as they could be mistress of an embassy. No doubt he had been much harrassed by them, and no doubt he thought every woman in the world must think exactly as they did. How she should love to be privy to an encounter between a strong-minded flirt and the Baronet! She could well imagine his distraction, his cold pauses, his ironic replies, whilst the lady—no doubt thinking herself much admired—pursued the Ambassador from dinner to cards and back again. And laughing all the way, Anne climbed the stairs to her pupil’s room, elated beyond everything to have found the subject for her second novel so easily, and the chief character so conveniently near to hand.
But the business of being a governess requiring her immediate attention, Anne was prevented from pursuing her idea any further. She wished to impart the news of the proposed visit to Carlton House without delay, for she knew it would amaze and delight the little girl. She went directly, therefore, to Nicole’s bedchamber, where she found her pupil staring at a picture book. The sound of the door opening, however, made the child look up with a frightened expression which amazed her governess.
“Why, child, what are you doing?” inquired Anne, going up to her and glancing at the volume, which was full of ornate plates of Parisian monuments.
“I was only trying to discover what France is like,” responded the child. “But I can find nothing here about children, or what games are played in Paris, or what it will be like.”
“I am sure it will be quite delightful,” replied Anne, sitting down on the arm of the chair and putting her arm around the little girl. “Although not in any way you can foretell. It is always tempting to make up one’s mind about things before they happen, but one is nearly always wrong.”
“I know—for nothing here is like anything I expected,” returned Nicole, and with such a grave little voice that Anne was astonished.
“Why, what is wrong? Where is the cheerful little girl I know? Pray don’t tell me she has gone to bed and left this unhappy child in her place! I hope not indeed, for I have grown very fond of her, and should miss her dreadfully.”
“Would you indeed, Miss Calder?” inquired the child doubtfully. “But if you should, you should be the only one who would miss me,”
“Why, whatever are you talking of?” demanded Anne in amazement.
Nicole looked down into her lap and pressed her lips together.
“I—I do not suppose Sir Basil would miss me very much. He does not like me, does he? I suppose I am a great deal of trouble, and that is why he wished to speak to you.”
“A great deal of trouble! Heavens! Whatever made you think so? Foolish girl—I suppose that is why he wishes to take you to Carlton House next week to meet the Prince!”
No words could describe the look of amazement which now came over Nicole’s features. But there was still disbelief in her voice when she said, “To meet the Prince! Why, what does he want to meet me for?”
“I suppose he wishes to see if you are as remarkable as everyone says,” retorted Anne with a smile. “In any case, Sir Basil thinks you will not disappoint him, and so you may be sure he likes you very well indeed! I am sure he should not have thought of it if he did not.”
“Oh, I am very glad of that!” exclaimed the child with such an earnest look that Anne could not help but smile. “For I was really afraid that he had asked to speak to you to say he did not want me for his ward anymore. I don’t know what I should have done, in that case, for I have nowhere else to go.”
“Hush, child—no one wishes you to go away, and least of all, Sir Basil. What on earth can have put such an idea into your head?”
Nicole gave a trembling smile. “Why, because he never speaks to me without that funny look—when he speaks to me at all. I know he is a very grand sort of man, for Papa told me so. Papa said Sir Basil was one of the most admired men in the whole kingdom, and that I was exceedingly lucky to be going to him. But I do not think,” she finished with a confidential look, “that he likes children very well.”
Anne could not but smile at the perception of this child, although she was very sorry for it, since it caused her pain. She was more than ever determined to contradict any such impression, and at the risk of fabricating a little, she replied warmly:
“Why, that is the most nonsensical thing I ever heard! On the contrary, he wished most especially to tell me that he liked you better than any other little girl he ever saw. But you must understand, Nicole, that Sir Basil has a great many things to think about. And I do not suppose he has had much opportunity in his life to converse with children, so you must not mind it if he seems a little awkward at first. You must help him, you know—we must both help him, for I think he is actually frightened of us both!”
The idea that Sir Basil might be frightened of her made a great impression upon the child. She looked up in disbelief, and then, with a giggle, wondered if it could be true?
“Most certainly it is! Is not it very odd? But people often are rather odd. And thank heaven for it, too—else we should be an exceedingly dull lot.”
Nicole digested this idea for a moment, and then, with a confidential tone, inquired if she was odd, as well?
Anne could not help laughing at the sight of the grave little face gazing up at her.
“My dear girl, you are original, and that is the best thing in the world to be.
It is very easy to be like everyone else, but to be yourself—purely and simply yourself—is the best possible thing in the world. So if anyone ever says that you are odd—and someone inevitably will, sometime—you must just tell them so.”
“Are you an original, Miss Calder? But, I suppose you must be. You are not like anyone I ever knew. Of course, you are not like Sir Basil, but different in another kind of way. Much prettier, anyway.”
“Well! That is very good of you, I’m sure. I suppose I am rather different, in my own way. And I should not like to change places with anyone. Certainly not with Sir Basil, for all his eminence.”
“Nor with Lady Cardovan? She is very pretty, and very nice too.”
“Yes, she certainly is. But I do not think I should like to be exactly like her, either. No, to be frank, I do not think I should like to be like anyone, save myself. Now, it is very late, and you must go to sleep else you shan’t be able to learn anything in the morning. I have a great dislike of sleepy little girls when they ought to be bright and wide awake.”
And with these words, Anne persuaded Nicole to get up from her chair, and having helped her change from her frock into a nightgown, tucked her into bed. The child seemed content enough to do as she was bid, and having been tucked in, sank wearily into her pillows. But just as Anne was about to quit the room and had blown out the candle, she heard a small, high voice call her name.
“Miss Calder? Do you think even the Prince is odd?”
Anne laughed. “The Prince? Why, I suppose he is, in his own way. But you shall see for yourself soon enough, shan’t you?”
Chapter X
Nicole had not long to wait. Only two days later Sir Basil returned from his daily outing and, calling for his ward and Miss Calder, announced that he had been that morning with the Prince.
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