"I am going to New York to get a cook," she replied with a decided air. "Do you know the state of the thermometer?" "I don't care anything about it," with some obstinacy, tugging at the button of her glove. "But I do," he said. "Now, Miss Featherstone, while I'm here I am master of the house, and if it's necessary to go to town it's I that am going--to use Pat's vernacular--and not you. Give me directions, and I'll follow them implicitly." "So Dick went, did he?" said Mrs. Pinckney. She was propped up in bed with large pillows: Miss Featherstone, still in her bonnet, sat by her side. "Yes: it was very kind, for I don't know what would have become of the children all day, poor things! and you sick." Mrs. Pinckney glanced searchingly at her. "Dick is very kind when he pleases, and exceedingly efficient," returned the invalid: "I've no doubt he'll bring back a capital cook." "I had a great prejudice against Mr. Pinckney," said Miss Featherstone, slowly smoothing out her gloves, "but I confess it has vanished, there is something so straightforward and manly about him; and he certainly is very kind." "He does not flatter you at all?" "Oh no; and that is one reason I like him. I detest the gallant, tender manner which many men affect toward women." "Doctor Harris, for instance?" "Well, Doctor Harris, for instance," returned Miss Featherstone, smiling, and blushing a little. "Doctor Harris has certainly made love to her, and Dick as certainly hasn't. I wonder--oh, how I wonder!--whether he was in earnest the other day?" Her large blue eyes were fixed scrutinizingly on the governess, although she thought, not said, these things. "He thinks you do a great deal too much in the house, and was quite abusive to me about it: he actually swore when he discovered the amount of your salary. Now, my dear Miss Featherstone, you may name your own price: I'll give you anything you ask, for no amount of money can represent the comfort you are to me." "I don't want one cent more than I at present receive," replied the governess, kissing her fondly. A few days after Colonel Pinckney--a self-constituted committee, apparently, for the prevention of cruelty to governesses--surprised Miss Featherstone in the school-room. She was seated before the fire in a low chair, little Harry, who was fretful from a cold, lying on her lap, the other children clustered around her. As he softly opened the door he heard these words: "'Blondine,' replied the fairy Bienveillante sadly,' no matter what you see or hear, do not lose courage or hope.'" As she told the story in low, drowsy tones she was also mending the heel of a little stocking.