JANET:

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 48, 29 November 1890, Page 4

J ANET:

THE STORY OF A GOVERNESS. By MRS. OLIPHANT, Author of ‘Laird of Worlaw,* ‘Agnes.

CHARTER VI

HANET had as pretty a little temper of her own as you could meet anywhere. It flashed up in a moment into her eyes. No one, schoolgirl or otherwise, was likely to get a cheap bargain of this little governess. She rose, and, turning the key in the door as she passed, walked up to the table at which Miss Julia sat with her book. The girl was not aware that her own absolute immovability proved to her antagonist that she was not absorbed in her book but in the battle which had begun. Miss Sunimerhayes stood opposite to her for a moment looking down upon Julia’s bent head. She felt the key of the door in her pocket, which, perhaps, was rather a desperate step so early in the fight; as in doing this she had at once burnt her ships, anil committed herself to a policy of absolute no-surrender ; but still it inspired her, for she could now neither draw back nor temporise. ‘ Julia ! I have told you three times that it is ten o’clock, and I am waiting to begin lessons.’ There was still not a movement, not a sound. Julia sat as if made of stone. Then Janet made the great coup she had been contemplating. With a sudden swift movement she took the book from under the reader’s bent face, closed it, and carried it away. In a moment Julia was erect, getting to her feet with a bound, her grey eyes dilating into great globes of gold, her spring like that of a tiger. Janet had scarcely time, though her movements were very quick, to get back to the shelter of her armchair. But she managed to do so, and to lock up the offending volume in a drawer, with Julia’s grip on her shoulder, and a shriek of ‘ How dare you, how dare you !’ ringing in her ears. ‘ Miss Sunimerhayes I give me back my book. How dare you take my book ? Give it me this moment —do you hear me ! do you hear me !’ cried the girl passionately, holding Janet’s shoulders in a grasp of steel. ‘ I hear you perfectly well—as you heard me just now Take your hands from my shoulders. I did not touch you if we are to fight, let us fight fair. ’ Julia’s hands dropped, and a shade of consternation came over her eyes. Then she stamped her foot violently upon the floor —‘ Miss Sunimerhayes, give me back my book ‘ Sit down,’ said Janet, not uncheerfully, ‘and we can have it out.’

‘ Give me back my book !’ ‘Well,’ said Janet, ‘now we have both got through that formula trois sommations — though I am afraid not very respectueuses. Do you know what that means ? I called you three times and you have called me three times. We are equal, so far. Now sit down aud let us talk it out.’ ‘Equal I’ said Julia, with a shriek, ‘me and you, Miss Sunimerhayes ! You are only the governess—that’s no better that a servant. You may suppose they think different downstairs, because of their way of talking, and because Gussy thinks it’s grand to be like that. But they think just the same. And mamma will stand up for me. She pretends she wants me to be mastered, but she doesn’t, and you’ll find the difference when you go to her with your complaints.’

‘ But I don’t mean to go to her with any complaints,’ said Janet, putting on the best smile she could. ‘lf we are to get on, we must manage it between ourselves ; if not, there is a very easy remedy for me. You had better sit down, and discuss the matter, so that we may know what we are about. ’

‘ What’s your remedy?’ cried Julia, breathing hard. ‘ It will be quite effectual so far as I am concerned ; but I don’t like to be beaten, so I shall try some others first. Sit down there.’ ‘ I sha’n’t,’ Miss Julia said.

‘ Well, stand on your head then,’said Janet, ‘ perhaps you may like that better ; only let us get all the necessary tricks over, and come to business, for it may as well be decided once for all.'

‘ How dare you talk of tricks ! What do you call my tricks’’

‘ They are quite easy to describe. To pretend to be deaf, dumb, and blind ; to pretend to be a wild beast; to shriek and snort and talk loud. I don’t know what others you may still have to get through, but you must know as well as I do that all these are tricks, and of no consequence. When they are exhausted then we can begin to talk. ’ ‘Me a wild beast I Me of no consequence. I should like, cried Julia, with her eyes blazing like red-hot flames, and her fingers clasping and unclasping, ‘ just to give it you hot, for once ! just to stamp upon you, and tear off your fal-lals and pitch you out of window !’ Janet nodded her head at each threat, not by way of approbation, but of acquiescence as in an argument she had foreseen. ‘ I know,’ she said, ‘ 1 told you so. It would be a great saving of time if you would consider all that sort of thing as said, and come to the real question.’ ‘ What is the real question ?' said Julia, staring, with her hands grasping the top of the chair on which she hail l>een requested to sit down—whether because she was cheeked in her childish rage, or whether because she meant to use it as a weapon, it was difficult to say. ‘ The real question is whether we are to be able to get on together or not. It’s the only one of any importance. I want to come to that.’

‘What an awful fool you must be,’ said Julia, bending over the back of the chair towards Janet with flaming looks of wrath.

‘ Yes?’ said Janet. ‘ One of us is so, that is evident; but why should it strike you at this moment ?’

‘ To think that it isn't settled already, to think that I would ever give in to yon for a moment. Knuckle under ! me! Oh ! you think you can come over me with smiling, when you aie in as blue a funk You, a bit of a governess hired just like the housemaid ; and that is exactly what mamma will say.’ Janet yawned a little in the girl's furious face, a gentle little yawn which did not at all distort her own countenance.

‘My poor child,’ she said, ‘if you would only consider that 1 understand all that, and that we'd so much better come to business ! You can’t frighten me, and though, of course, you can insult me, that's of equally little use, for I don’t care.’

‘ Because you’re used to it,’ cried Julia. ‘ No, once only before. It was a tramp on the road, an old woman, and I would not give her any money. It is curious to think where you can have learned the same sort of thing—brought up, 1 suppose, more or less like a lady—but it must be in the blood.’

‘Do you mean to say I’m not a lady—you ? Oh-h !’ for Janet had gently shrugged those little shoulders which still felt the young fury’s grip. ‘ I’ll go !’ cried Julia, fiercely, ‘ I’ll go this minute and tell mamma.’ Janet sat quietly in her chair awaiting the discovery of the locked door, and somewhat alarmed lest there should ensue a physical struggle which would be undignified and unladylike. Then followed a whirlwind of noise, stamping, shrieking, and wild talk. ‘ Give me the key ! Open the door! I want to go to mamma. Mamma ! Let me out. Let me out ! I want to open the door' —then a furious kick upon the panel. ‘ Mamma ! Gussy ! I’m locked in ; come, come, and open the door. ’ ‘ It is a pity that all the servants should know you are in trouble, Julia. Let it remain between you and me,’ said Janet, laying her hand upon the girl’s shoulder. ‘ Open the door !’ ‘ No, I shall not open the door—nor shall anyone else, if I can help it. Let it remain between you and me.’ ‘ Mamma will send and order you to do it. Mamma !

Mamma '. I am locked in. I can’t get out. Come and open the door !’ How it was that no one heard these outcries Janet could not imagine ; but they were at the top of the house ; the kitchen was thoroughly occupied with its own affairs, and Mrs Harwood, as she found out afterwards, had been wheeled out for her morning airing, so that silence alone replied to Julia’s passionate appeals. She rushed to the window and flung it open, but the gardener was not visible in the garden. After half-an-hour of tumult an enforced silence fell upon the schoolroom. But Julia was not yet overcome. ‘ I shall keep you here all your life—you shan’t Ro —not a step. If lamto be shut in you shall be shut in too. You shall have no lunch ; you shall have no tea ; you shall have no dinner !’ said Julia, crescendo, rising to a climax.

‘ Well,’ said Janet, ‘if you think it better to put oft’ our conversation till to-morrow, I make no objection. It will be very uncomfortable—but there are worse things than discomfort in this world. I have done without my dinner before now.’

‘ Yes ! often, I shouldn’t wonder—when you had nobody to give you a dinner,’ cried Julia. Janet looked at the furious girl with a glance of astonishment in her eyes. She laughed a little. ‘ You silly child,’ she said.

And then in the midst of the agitation and tumult there occurred a moment of quiet. Julia was at the end of her resources. She was worn out with her own passion, dismayed by being thus left to the tender mercies of the governess, and discouraged beyond description by the indifference and contempt of the stranger whom she had been so certain of subduing—a little thing not so big as herself, a little governess without a friend—a subject creature whom it was safe for everybody to jump upon. Julia’s experience contained no stronger picture of the governess than that of the one who ran away next morning after complaining to Mrs Harwood that she was not accustomed to such young ladies. The others had all coaxed and cringed and endeavoured to temporise. Julia went and sat down panting at the other table, and watched this newkind of human being seated in the middle of the room as

if nothing had happened, calmly writing, not a hair turned upon her head, not a bit of frill crumpled about her neck. It was natural to Janet to be neat, and her self-control was wonderful. Besides, of course she knew that she was being looked . at, watched with all the keen observation of a vindictive child to see where her weakness lay. That she hail supported this struggle so long without moments of weakness it would lie vain to say—that she had not felt the stings ami resented the blows. Her heart had beat as if it was nursling from her breast. She had felt herself trembling all over with excitement and alarm. But she had managed somehow to keep calm all along, and she was still calm now, keeping in her breath, holding herself with all her might to look indifferent. Julia’s observation was keen, but not so keen as to pierce Janet’s armour of mail. The girl sat staring at her with eyes that became less and less like orbs of flame, and more like ordinary big grey eyes with a golden glow. And Janet wrote a letter. It was the only thing she could think of to give her the support of an occupation. She wrote a. nai rative of what had passed, writing ‘ Dear Mrs Bland ’ at the top to give herself a countenance, though the last thing in the world she would have done was to send the Vicar s wife such a description of her first day in her new situation. She smiled, however, to herself involuntarily as she went on with her story, making it very amusing. And Julia saw her-smile, and something like awe came over the exhausted spirit of the little rebel. To go through all that, one tithe of which would have broken the spirit of any other governess, and yet to smile ! After a long interval of silence, and when Janet began to wonder with some alarm how she would meet a long strain of passive resistance had Julia strength of mind to keep it up, a sudden voice once more made itself heard—

‘ Miss Summerhayes ! the first thing I shall do when I get out of this will be to tell mamma.’

‘ That is exactly what I should recommend,’ said Janet, looking up from her writing ; ‘ one’s mother should always know eveiything,’ and with a friendly little nod she returned to. her letter. Julia could not tell what to think : there was more in it than her puzzled understanding had ever encountered before. After a while she said with some hesitation, ‘ Miss Summerhayes!’ again. ‘ Yes,’ said Janet, looking up once more. ‘ What did you mean about conversation ? I hate you ! I shall never speak to you three words if I can help it ; but what did you mean about putting off the conversation ? I want to know- ’

‘ Perhaps it will be better to put it off till to-morrow.’ ‘ I want to have it now-. Conversation !as if there ever could be any between you and me.’ ‘ That is what I have just said. It will be better to put it off,’ said Janet, without raising her head, turning over the page of her supposed letter. The next thing she heard was a stamp on the floor, suppressed so that it was scarcely a stamp, and an exclamation— ‘ I prefer to have it now. ’ ‘ I cannot, talk to anyone so far oft’,’ said Janet, and there was another pause. Presently she could hear the faint rustling of a person about to get up from a chair, which went on for some time, there being an evident and great reluctance to move. Then there w-as a sudden plunge. Julia alighted opposite her, on the other side of the table. ‘ I want to know what it is I want to know- what you want with me.’ Janet sat up, raising her head, putting dow-n her pen. ‘ Honestly, and without any more preliminaries ?’ she said. Julia’s eyes gave a- single dart of fire. ‘No one ever said I was a thief. I want to know what you want with me.’ ‘ That is what I call honestly,’ Janet replied, and she put away her writing things for the second encounter, the first having thus been successful beyond her hopes. CHAPTER VII. ‘Well, said Janet, when she found herself looking into the bland and flushed countenance of the passionate girl. Julia had given vent, in spite of herself, to some tears,'and had dashed them away with her hand or her sleeve, leaving a smear, and her hair was hanging wildly round her face, and there was a general airof dilapidation’and ruin, though accompanied by few actual signs of warfare. She ought to have torn her frock from top to bottom to justify the general aspect of affairs, but she had not done so, and the smeared cheek and the ragged hair were the only physical certainties of the conflict past. There was still a pucker over each eye, but it w-as not an assured and dauntless pucker. The fortunes of war, for once, had not turned the usual way. ‘ Well—you have been behaving like a fool, but a fool has no meaning. When one can behave like a fool with a meaning I think there must be some sense at the bottom. If I am right, nothing matters that has happened ; but if I am wrong ’

Julia stared with faint comprehension and much impatience. She said—

‘ Don’t palaver. What do you want with me?’ Now-, Janet had expected to exercise a little feminine philosophy upon the girl when she had got her in hand—a little banter, a little seriousness—to make her ashamed of herself in the first place, and then to make her see. She was taken a little aback. If she could not make her ashamed nor make her see, what was to be done ? The question grew a great deal more serious thus than when it concerned only a locked door. She ran over the circumstances rapidly in her mind, and she saw it would not do to answer according as it at first occurred to her, that she (Janet) personally wanted nothing at all with Julia, except as little to do with her as might be. ‘ What I want is simple,’ she said, with a smile. ‘ I want to do the work I have been engaged to do, and that is to educate you for as many hours as your mother has fixed for your education. How- am Ito get that done ? for, you may be sure, I mean to do it in one way or other. I ‘want to talk it over and discover how it is to be done.’ • I don’t want it to be done at all.’

‘ Neither do I,’ said Janet facing the rebel bravely, and bursting into a laugh. ‘ But if you will reflect,’she said, ‘ that does not get us a bit further on, for it must be done. Unless it is done you will grow up like the tramp woman I was telling you of—not at all an interesting person—and I shall break my word. Now, I don’t like to break my word. You don’t care at present about becoming like a tramp, but you will later on.’

• How i»rf v»« say J alia, said she 1-ltJe governess. * I dare say anything I think proper. or to do anything, so you had better make ap jour mind to that at onee. Such quesxfons are silly. lam not airaid oi anv.oe or anything.' Janet threw l«ack her need. »kki was -aal'e:—as she was smaller in every part —than that erf her tall pupiL There is nothing so fear less in life as a girt who is withunt fear. It is true that the kind of daunt Jess courage she p>resesees is largely made op of ignorance. and also comes. a little perhaps of the oocventerxal precautions widen defend her though she does not know it. However, the quality is absolute, and Janet had it. She feared nothing, as she said. Julia, from tinder her puckered eyebrows, glared into the clear brown eyes, which had something in them like the sparkle of a Highland stream, and admired the valour which she was always fighting against. She stared, but she said nothing in reply. • You see,’ said Janet. * I will do what I've promised : and if I were you I’d say I will too. It's much nicer than to have to say I most ' Still Julia stared ; her Ups moved as if she would have spoken, but she. uttered no sound. • Lfownstairs.’ said Janet. - they expect us to fight. lam afraid you have bee® so silly that they think you are a fowl, and don't understand anytrjag about what is'expected from a gentle woman. That's not my opinion, as I told you ; but as I shall not give in. whatever you do, it would be very silly to go on fighting forever. We ran make something better of it. if you will be convinced that I never shall be afraid of you —no, nor of anyone else,' Janet repeated with the colour mounting in her cheeks. Julia comtiiiued silent for some time : then, with a sudden tUTSt of harsh sound, asked—• W fiat do you want of me?' and was abruptly silent again, as if a spring had - teen touched to give forth that voice. “I want yon to speak when you are spoke® to,' said Janes.

The girl, who evidently expected something of much larger scope. cried • Oh !’ twit said no more. ‘ I want you to do as I tell you—for so many hours fij the day—from ten to one. is it ? That's not very long. You can be a desnot: after that, if you please, and dance your war-dance ?' ■ \\ fiat do vou mean bv—dancing mv war-dance ?’

- Behaving like a fiend, or a Red Indian, or a tramp in the woods: so long as you are in your senses from ten to

Julia stared again, but made no reply. • But you must remember.’ said Janet. “ that in the place I come from. where there are no Red Indians, there is a pc«nt of honour: and whatever one undertakes to do one does. If you see the sense of what I say, and give me your word, it is once and for ever ; not promise one day and break it the next- That is a sots of thing I lout understand, • >ne promise, and it is for life and death. It does not master what comes in the wav. If you were to be killed for it, it would have to be done.' Julia stared for a few moments more and then — • I can see the sense of that,' she said.

•To be sure. J knew you would when you gave yourself time to look at it- Well, then, you can see that to call in other people or other consideratfons is of no use between you and me. At the last we should always have to talk it over between ourselves. If you like you can make it quite easy and rather pleasant: if you don't, I must think erf some other w ay.'

When the hour of lun-rbeoas arrived, the nespecta’tde household in St. John's Wood was considerably ex rated as to the fate os the new governess, Perhaps the servants had not r<M» so coetylesely out of hearing as had appeared. Perhaps some stray notes of the fray had been blown out of the - -pen windows or conveyed through the chinks of the woodwork. At all events, there was a prex ailing cariosity in the bouse, which became apparent almost as son as the governess and her pupil left the shelter of those rooms in which alreadv so many varied scenes in the life and edneatfoe of Julia Harwood hai taken place. Mrs Harwood s maid met them on the stairs, and gave Janet an inquiring look, to wnieb the goveroesss, yon may be sure, made no reply. Half-wav down they were again met by the ysarkssmnaid, who, lo'king s-smewfiai ‘ fiusiere<i.' ann.-u»aed that Mrs Hsiwotd was afraid they might not hare beard the bell. ■ Oh. yes. we can bear the bell perfectly.' said Janet. She went into the dsning-ioom with Julia so dose behind her that ihev formed one shadow. Mrs Harwood's fare was turned anxionslv towards the door. Gussy, more astute, had her eyes intent upon the mirror, in which everything was refiected. There was a long breath of relief drawn by both. not. perhaps, audible by any uninterested spectator. but affecting the entire awnosphere to Janet's excited <-/ She felt as if her :risn;i n-tst be of mc*re impeetanee than the mere victory over a naughty child, and wotwiered with a ttassing thrill, was there any mystery involved ? But in fare of the decccous. gentle household, -so correct, so punctilious, which had not a fold awry, or a comer neglected in all its careful eronccny, it was ludicrous to think v»f any mystery. However there could be no doubt that her entranre was -greeted with extreme pdeasuie.

- Sit here, my dear Miss Snmmernayes.' said the mistress •of the bouse. This is a warm comer : there is no draught al this side Well, and so you have got over your first moTTniny’s work. And how do you like teaching ? It's very tedious I ® afrai-d-' • <>h. not where there is intelligence and brains.' said Janet with great composure. 4 Children who cannot keep up their attention are very trying : but not anyone who is ojj enough to understand! There has not teen much teaching. however, this nx-ming. we have been ehiefiy talking things over. Two strangers forced together without any mutual knowledge. I thought it best that we should understand each other first.'

This statement, which was givers with the most natural air in the world, was listened to by all her audience with most flattering interest, but perfect decoram. the only transgressve of which was the parlourmaid, from whose direetkes there came one or two muflSed sounds, whether of jainfullv suppressed laughter, or of something giving way in the efe -rt erf conwoUing emotiosi. Janet could not tell. Gussy fixed the culprit with a glittering eye from behind the screen which sheltered her from the Maxing fire, and Mrs Harwood cast a cursory glance behind her. None of these things- would have been notieed at all by a stranger who was less prepared than Janet- but she perceived everything in her own suppiessed excitement. There was some-

thing amusing, however, ia the comment made by the -trmn upon the parlourmaid's stavw ' That is so sensible. ’ said Mrs Harwood. •it is for want orf getting to understand each other that ro many relatfocships go wrong. Ju, push your chair back a little, the sun is in vour face.' Julia paid no attention to this command. * Ju. the ssa is ia vour fare, sit nearer this way : your eyesight will be gone before you are twenty. Child! do you near me f Mrs Harwood cried.

• And her complexion : you will have noe al all left, not a tint,' said Gussy. ■ before you roeoe ouu' Julia did not betray by a movement that she bad beard either speak, hut put her head forward into the twilliaat ray of sunshine which streamed across the table, so as to get the full glow ipn her face. She had not much to beast of in the way of eompsexiou. Whether it was the blue of sunlight and firefight cocubined to which -be loved to expose herself, or » hetber it was nature, her face thus brought into prominer. re was sallow and freckled, only relieved by the golden light ia her eyes, • The winter sun cannot -do much fiartu. said Janet, with a friendly impulse. •It makes a pretty picture- ’ • Ah,'said Gussy, shaking her bead, 'you should have seen that child once : she had sneia a colour. We ba< e nothing to bras of in the way of compilexion in our family, but I once thought Ju would redeem us in that respect. Alas ’ and Miss Harwood shook her bead.

• And did you find her very backwaid. Miss Summerixiyes 1 and is there any special thing you think she is more fit for than others ? I always like young people to have some parrieular turn. Do you remember. Gussy, bow we med to try and try with to get him to say whu he would like to be. But he never would take an attitude of his own. •• Whatever you please, mother, - he used to say.' • That was all his goodness, mamma.’ said Gussy. • What he wanted was to travel and that sort of thing—and be knew you would not like it- We have never travelled mueh in this family. And then he knew he w<wi«d not have any great oecasaon to work for himself.’ •We never can tell that,’ said the old lady. ‘ Land's gone down, and perhaps the Funds may soon go down. In these dreadful times you never can know. Ju. take your elbows off the table. You -it like a washerwoman. I never saw such sh-'-u filers. ■ The Funds are the country,' said Gussy. • they can’t go down, or England will be ruined. Ju. do you hear wbat mamma says? Her shoulders are something dreadful. Take your elbows off the table, for govdness sake :’ Julia to.k not the slightest notice of these remarks. She sat with loth elbows co the tablecloth, eating bread-and-butter at an elevatjon of many inches ever her neglectei plate. • I have beard.’ said J anet. ‘ that the peeide who are calle-J smart peojje do that now. It b.as berowe the fashion ; so Julia is in advance of ns instead of bring behind, a- you think.' • Ab,' said Mrs Harwood, shaking her bead, • •«a»i manners are the fashion, and that is a dreadful thing to say. I reroesuber in my young days—hut fortunately we don't know anything about -mart people here.’ Julia - elbowv bad disappeared with the rapidity erf magie. She would not have it supposed that she meant to be smart or in the fashion, whatever anyone might say.

CHAPTER VIII. Janet found after this experience was oxer that she bad perhaps disrount«>i :«m> quickly the excitetaest erf her ;<«atfoes. She ha-i gone too fast, a- was the isapuise orf ber nature. Julia Harwood, who had teen used to continual ■ lagging, which never raroe to ary-tiring, a ennttnaed and frivolous demars 1 to which obedience was never exacted, had been taken entirely by surprise by the rapid ajovetuent.<rf the little go»emess Reason, which sa. never befece ben ape-lied to her ease, had made a cx-nst-ieraise ;mjross»- e upon be: : let still more, the evevi-tfoe that Mms Mane haves would stand no n -n-ense. the w bolesonse sense of a fxwee which she cosild not •wercoue : and between the two the terrj- rarv efleet produced ha: eer great And a cerTain ir.--w: of order fifci folk-wed in the sebcssrewen. When the t re were alone. Jalia replied w ben -be was spokn to, and -did more or less what she was told. There was a framework created ot lessc-ns an-, rules which helped the boars aloetg. and to which the girl gave a -on --f -ul-mis-sior_ But apart front tiri-. which oceapied the mornmgof her new existence, pre Janet found herself immersed. subreerge«d. drowned in a sort erf tepid bath erf Harwooiisan. which was ar. experience -quite unkwxked for an: untboug-tit erf. Sense families, and ttc.ee yerfiaje the most amiai-ie in exi-teasce. have this leniency so strong that there is no escape from it ; they cosnjare everything, . udge everything, estimate everything, by the rule of t-brir own ease— ■ in our family we do,’ or •we don’t do ’so and so. were

words rontuiually on Augusta Harw- od's lips. Sue was a very good, cwtssi<serate, kind young v-rxt. trying to "make everybody comfortable about ber. eager to antfoipate every want, to see mas the stranger was warn: enough, cool enough, bad jus® tne right amount erf sugar in ber tea. was not over-tired, did not have camp fee: or wear too thin

a dress, or get the sun or firelight in her eyes. Gussy achieved the very difficult tea: of making a dependent jerfeetlr *t her ease, and c-bEteratcxg almost every trace oi that *-'■■ l«am.ssm-ent which attends the poritfon os a governess- It »«- txd that she fell into one of those sudden enthusiastic friendships w-hich sensevimes unite The daughter of the louse with the stnanger in it. but onlv that she was eonstitutionally kind, thoroughly good-hearted and good-natured. It w->uld seem difficult to sav axv more in her favour than this. Ant x-et, from her gentle, amiable an i good-humoured sway there arose '«e fixed impression : and in her pleasant yereou there l-reatbed out. embracing all things, one mild, universal atmosphere orf the family. It was as it she knew- -■ Pri- g but Harw - eds in the world. Church—e en ebureh: s-ate xr- laws and gx-vemments. an-c. r ustness ar.’d hooks, were outside the rws-is in which she dwelt —the univeree in --eneral lav leyo©d, as great Lcoio® :s,y rey-.n--. the brick walls of the'garden in St. John’s Wood. Lond-n existed for th* advantage of that bouse, and so -Sid the universe in which London is but a point- But they were -utsdde. and of -ec-ondary importance. Tie Hatwomfe, there hai-its. their way-- their ance-tors. their relationships, and, above all. their charneteristics. were within, as. everything without took a tinge fren: this prex Mling_ atmosphere. Il might le sonse tin?e before tne spectators fc-und out what it aa-s. It was like the transparent veil -rf tarlatan which .s -rtmstirw, stre-tcbot leiween a irawing-rvom assen-bly -rf spectators and as exhihitfon of rsorara, to give distanee and softness to the mimie scene: it wa- :ike the tint scimetimes supposed to be iecx-misg to the c*:»naplexk>n. which faintly rose-cofoured glass gives to t::e air of a boudoir: it was a medium, an aameephete, all rerx-ading, something from which tliere was no escape. Janet had been prepared, as :.as been seer, for many of the deprivatfons os a governess, none --f which she was called upon t« - bear. The letters she received from her old friends at Clover, ro whom she had narrated her firs® exyenwere almost enthusiastic in thear congiasulat-x-ns, * You seem to have been fortunate ab -ve anything that could be hoped for.’ Mrs Bland wrote. ‘ I never beard_--t such kind people.* And so they were. Janet assure-: herself. Jiever were people so kind: they eared for her comfort as if she ■s? been a favoured x isitor: they never al .-owed her to fee: herself rfc frop. They accey ted her into the bosom of the family wish the most c-pex as well as the raost considerate kindness. Nevertheless, it was not very , long before Janet began to feel the creeping in -f scMnsetiring not strong enough to’be called imasma, a son of closeness an the air. Sh-e fell the beax ■ ess contracting round her and the horiren closir. g up These sca-sarions were mure or less : -by -fo*‘. y -nsrified by the fact that there is a great deal - f vegetaiic® in St. J—bn’s W-wwi : that the trees ,-row thick in a hundred gardens, was proved by its r-.-.iage and greenness, and that the fall of the leaf a- atter. oi wish disagreeables there as :n other leafy places : 1-ut mat was not the hears of the matter. Janes tegaa to find herself drawing Jong breams -® relief when she got outside the garden gate. This was generally in company wish Julia, who di-.- no: share in the family worship, and whose conversation vis very jerky an . irregular, leaving the governess free either So lead she dialogue or so refrain from any. And when Janet escaped altogether. by herself, as sometimes she did, so _■ ■ to chore someritne- to the circulating library to get a hw-k. sometimes to the nearest reyo-itory are needlework so match some silk or crewel- for Mrs Harwood, she w as still ’rore delighted mi relieved. T<- escape for an :.ou: fr- t - e Harwoods —to become once more cocnejoes of her own indivi-dua-itv. and of the existence erf crowds, nay. worlds of :eot-'.e who did not bear that respectable name. teeuM the greatest refreshment to her. She w oufit run out even in t be wet if anything was wanted, in the m-<st cheerful and. a- tie family thought, self denying way. -But my dear, is rains. I couldn’t p.ee-ildy let vou go--u: in the rain, to take all the -tifliening out -4 y--ur eraje. *&-i. perhaps, catch odd. all because I wars: that Lok. Mr- Harw-o: w001.2 sax. din-ied between her desire for a new n--\el whirl: is doubly acceptable <-o a wet cay and ber concern for Janet. Ti is was a thing slat the gardener mid n-x do. r.--r even berowmaid—cx>ukl that funetiouary have been persuace-i v-wet ber feet—for maids and gardener- nexer kn-.w what y--u have read, even th--u_b they themselves have brought theta ■ t-a-y. ■— and again, a- Mrs Harwood o-mj-lained. till vou are neariv driven --ct of yonr -er.se--. • If y--u really think y.-u vo-ui-i like the run.' the old lady aiided. with- a -e-lden sen-eof the advantage, • I remember »hets I was x r«: age I never

minded the rain—but it will take all the stiffening out of y«urcra|<e.’ • She has no crape on that dress,’said Gussy, ‘which I very much approve of. for what is the good of a thing you have always to be thinking ofWe never go in for mourning very much in our family. But, mamma, I do think, what with your books and your crewels, and so forth, you impose very much on Miss Summerhayes.’ • Oh, I like it,’ cried Janet, ‘it gives me the greatest pleasure. I only wish 1 could run on errands all day long, if I could be of any use—you are all so good to me.' • That is a grateful little thing, Gussy,' said Mrs Harwood, as Janet, wrapped in a mackintosh, with her skirts drawn up, and a little felt hat upon her head which could not be s|>oilt, ran lightly along the glistening path to the garden door.

Yes,'said Gussy, sedately, ‘she is a kind little thing ; ami I am sure she would do anything to please you, mamma And such a good influence over Ju. Dolff will not believe his eyes when he comes homes and sees her actually doing her lessons like any other girl.’ ‘ I ho|>e Miss Summerhayes does not humour her too much,’ said Mrs Harwood, with a sigh. In the meantime Janet was running along with the rain in her face, and a sense of freedom which made her heart dance. It was not an attractive day to be ,out, and the long roads in St.John's Wood, between the garden walls, with here and there a little oasis formed by a few shops, were not, perhaps, exhilarating to pedestrians generally. On a wet day there was nothing at all to be seen or met with in these roads any more than had they been the suburbs of a country town. On tine days the children and their nuiserymaids made a great deal of variety, and the old ladies going out for their airings in their bath chairs. It is not, perhaps, a very gay kind of traffic which is represented by bath chairs and perambulators. But there were the tradesmen too, and occasional cabs passing to add to the effect. But when it rained everything was desolate. The garden doors were closely shut ; the houses invisible behind among the bare branches of the trees from which the last shabby leaves were tumbling like rags among the droppings of the rain. What it is to be twenty, and to have a heart free of care ! Janet ran along the glistening pavement with her skirts held up, delighted, glad to be out, though she breathed almost as much rain as air, glad to have escaped from the all-enveloping Harwoods, and to Ire herself for one moment. She was only going on an errand for her employer, and her return was anxiously looked for, so that she knew that she must not be long; but every moment was good. She carried her umbrella shut ; she would not lose the feeling of the soft rain on her forehead. A conviction that this was against all the traditions of the Harwoods made it doubly agreeable. They were all afraid of catching cold and getting wet. but not Janet. She liked it. It meant a mark of freedom and independence. It meant being herself without a thought of Harwoodism, as she had been in the old days.

Janet skip]>ed into the stationer's shop to which she was bound, and which stood only (alas !) about a quarter of a mile off in one of the oases already described. In St. John’s Wood there are a great many stationers' shops. They are doubled with a circulating library, usually a branch of the all-pervading Mudie, and they sell all manner of ‘fancy’ articles, card boarding of every description. There is a great sale for menu-cards, forlittle mountsand frames, forcalendars and almanacs, and every sort of little composition of paper, pictures, and mottoes in pretty colours, in such districts. Pencils in Ixrxes and out of them, with little holders, with silver cases and unadorned for drawing purposes. Writing materials in pretty coloured covers, little books such as innocent minds love, with texts for every day, <. r pretty verses, or scraps of genteel philosophy. It would fill ail my space if I were to give a catalogue of half the things in these stationers' shops. In addition to all this ami the library, with its rows of novels, a little dilapidated, there Was a counter for music in this particular example of the stationers of St. John's Wood, and another one for newspapers, both these things forming a portion of the well-established business carried on by the Misses Mimpriss in Laburnum Place. When Janet skipped in, her face fresh from the rain and cold air, her eyes dancing with freedom and satisfaction, she almost ran against a gentleman who was standing inside turning over the music, and who turned round quickly with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was a young man and rather handsome, Janet thought ; not very tall but strong and well-built, with dark hair and a fine complexion, a little like, perhaps, the male beauties in the hairdressers’ shops. She was so much taken by surprise to find a man in that feminine place that she was, jierhaps, a little severe in her hasty judgment. He interfered with her satisfaction somehow, though he was perfectly well-bred, and, after the one glance of surprised attention — which was quite justifiable surely when a girl came like a bombshell into a little shop, where no such projectile could have been expected on a wet day—returned to his music and took no further notice. The momentary shock, however, made Janet’s fresh countenance blaze with its surprise ami unexpectedness. She went back into the further part of the shop to look over the novels and choose one which Mrs Harwood would like, which was no easy task. She had to ask for the help of the disengaged sister, who presided over that shiine of fiction, and had a long consultation with her to see which books Mrs Harwood had already read. Finally, she chose one with much internal doubt, intensified, she could scarcely tell how, by the presence of the man who stood with his back to her, certainly not interfering in any way with that simple operation. And it happened to make matters worse that the sister whom Janet was consulting was not the sister whose business it was to enter the books. Accordingly when Janet's Miss Mimpriss said to the other Miss Mimpriss ‘ 391,121 for Miss Harwood,’ the gentleman who was buying music turned half round again, exactly as if he had said, • Oh !' and gave Janet a look, not like the former look which was merely conventional, but one which was ]>ersonal to herself, and meant several things. It was a glance full of understanding, as if he knew all alsmt her. and of criticism, and amusement. His eyebrows went up a little, and he seemed to say, ‘Oh '. so that is who you are? It is you, is it?' which made Janet very angry, though for the life of her she could not have told why. She took her three battered volumes in her hands and left the shop, feeling her little expedition to be quite spoiled. She had meant to make an investigation herself among the music and to look over the ‘ fancy ' articles. She was only after all a country young lady ; and she believed

that among the many pretty things which the Miss Mimprisses sold at a cost of from one to two shillings, she could nave found something which Mrs Bland would have set upon the drawing-room mantel-piece in the Vicarage, bidding her visitors look what a pretty thing Janet had sent her from London, and was it not kind of the child ? Janet could not linger, however, to make any such putchare under that man’s eye. She would not have liked to do it before anybody, and had. indeed, jibed at the fancy articles when she had entered the shop with Miss Harwood ; bnt she felt much aggrieved to Ire so balked. ‘ Very like a barber's block,' she said to herself ; the sort of man whom vou might ex[>ect to see in the respectable part of St. John’s Wood, buying music, which perhajis he was going to take with him to some tea-party, to sing to the ladies. When she had exhaled her annoyance in this angry criticism, Janet recovered some portion of her pleasure, and walked home, but much more slowly, in order that she might have the enjoyment of every moment of her freedom, and not go in too soon. We are all much displeased when maids and page boys, and other light hearted but slow-footed messengers, do this, and keep our letters or our novels front ns, forgetting that these functionaries too might, like Janet, have need to feel themselves now and then, and lie able to think as they walk along. Acacia Road, that they are John or Mary, ami not mere officials executing our will. That night began just as other evenings hail begun after dinner. The family group was very comfortable, warm ami safe from all contentions of the elements which had settled into a dowtq>our outside, from all inharmonious noises or interruptions within. Mrs Harwood and Gussy at opposite sides of the tire, Miss Summerhayes seated at a little distance with the book upon the table, the very book which she had got from the library, and which she had volunteered to read aloud while the others worked. Very comfortable, but rather dull, but for the book, which was something, and lent an interest to the monotonous night. When lo ! all at once, in the midst of this monotony and unbroken calm, the stillness was suddenly broken by the tinkle ot the house bell. Somebody at the door ! Late in the evening, nearly nine, an hour at which no stranger step or sound ever disturbed the house. Janet stopped reading involuntarily, and grew pale in her surprise, looking round upon her companions with a sort of appeal. ‘ Bless us,’ cried Mrs Harwood, ‘ who can this Ire so late at night ?’

■lt is, perhaps, a telegram,' said Gussy. And then she glanced at the clock, and -added, ‘lt is not so very late. We have had people come later than this.' Gussy had a little light, not usually there, kindled in her eyes. She let her work drop upon her knees and listened. The sound of the unwilling parlour-maid sallying out in the wet to unlock the door, the sound of a voice and another step, even of a dripping umbrella placed in the stand, and an overcoat being taken off, were listened to by the ladies with much unanimity of inteiest. Even Janet was glad that something was coming to break the calm routine. When this last stage of suspense was reached. Gussy said — ‘ It will be Charlie Meredith and his songs,' and then laughed a little, as it were, under her breath. And then the door opened, and there walked in, with the assured step of one who knew himself welcome, the man of the music and the stationer's shop, the man who had looked round upon Janet as she got her novel, saying, ‘ Oh !’ with his eves.

(TO BE COXTOtfED.)