"Are you a native of London?" "No, my lady, of Berkshire." "And you have been a widow, how long?" What ailed Mrs. Weymore? She was all white and trembling--even her hands, folded and pressed together in her lap, shook in spite of her. "Eight years and more." She said it with a sort of sob, hysterically choked. Lady Thetford looked on surprised, and a trifle displeased. She was a very proud woman, and certainly wished for no scene with her hired dependents. "Eight years is a tolerable time," she said, coolly. "You have lost children?" "One, my lady." Again that choked, hysterical sob. My lady vent on pitilessly. "Is it long ago?" "When--when I lost its father?" "Ah! both together? That was rather hard. Well, I hope you understand the management of children--spoiled ones particularly. Here are the two you are to take charge of. Rupert--May come here." The children came over from their corner. Mrs. Weymore drew May toward her, but Sir Rupert held aloof. "This is my ward--this is my son. I presume Mr. Knight has told you. If you can subdue the temper of that child, you will prove yourself, indeed, a treasure. The east parlor has been fitted up for your use; the children will take their meals there with you; the room adjoining is to be the school-room. I have appointed one of the maids to wait on you. I trust you will find your chamber comfortable." "Exceedingly so, my lady." "And the terms proposed by Mr. Knight suit you?" Mrs. Weymore bowed. Lady Thetford rose to close the interview. "You must need refreshment and rest after your journey. I will not detain you longer. To-morrow your duties will commence." She rang the bell--directed the servant who came to show the governess to the east parlor and see to her wants, and then to send nurse for the children. Fifteen minutes after she drove away in the pony-phaeton, whilst the new governess stood by the window of the east parlor and watched her vanish in the amber haze of the August sunset. Lady Thetford's business in St. Gosport detained her a couple of hours. The big, white, August moon was rising as she drove slowly homeward, and the nightingales sang its vesper lay in the scented hedge-rows. As she passed the rectory she saw Mr. Knight leaning over his own gate enjoying the placid beauty of the summer evening, and Lady Thetford reined in her ponies to speak to him. "So happy to see your ladyship! Won't you alight and come in? Mrs. Knight will be delighted." "Not this evening, I think. Had you much trouble about my business?" "I had applicants enough, certainly," laughed the rector. "I had reason to remember Mr. Weller's immortal advice, 'Beware of widders.' How do you like your governess?" "I have hardly had time to form an opinion. She is younger than I could desire." "She looks much younger than the age she gives, I know; but that is a common case. I trust my choice will prove satisfactory--her references are excellent. Your ladyship has had an interview with her?"