Mrs. Dainty shook her head and pursed up her lips in a vulgar way that was natural to her. “Not perfect, of course,” said the friend. “No,—not within a thousand miles of perfection.” “An American girl, I presume?” “Yes.” The lip of Mrs. Dainty assumed a curl of contempt. “Poor American girls are an indifferent set,” remarked the lady. “A’n’t you afraid that your children will, imperceptibly, imbibe her low habits and vulgar ways of speaking?” “Yes; that is my greatest fear. Already I think I see a change.” “I wouldn’t keep her an hour, if that were the case,” said the lady. “No, not for the fraction of an hour!” she added, with emphasis. “I had almost as soon see my children vicious as vulgar; for vice may be eradicated, but vulgarity is a stain nothing can polish out.” “And, to add to her offence,” remarked Mrs. Dainty, “she has assumed an upstart authority which has kept the house in hot water ever since she came into it. The children, and particularly Agnes, will not submit to her rules and exactions.” “Why don’t you pack her off? I’d do it in less than no time,” said the refined acquaintance. “I’ve about made up my mind to do it, and in spite of all opposition.” “Opposition! Who has any right to oppose?” “That fussy old uncle of mine is always meddling in our affairs,—Uncle John.” “Why do you keep him about the house?” “He’s my mother’s brother,” replied Mrs. Dainty. She could have given a better reason; but it would have been at the expense of an exposure of selfishness she did not care to make. “If he were my mother’s great-grandfather, he couldn’t find harbor in my house if he interfered in what didn’t concern him,” said the lady. Mrs. Dainty sighed. Uncle John was a great trouble to her, for he would say what he thought and do what he pleased. But then Uncle John owned the house they lived in, which they occupied rent free, or in compensation for board. And, moreover, Uncle John was worth two or three dollars where her not over-thrifty husband was worth one. No, no. It wouldn’t just answer to turn Uncle John out of the house; for that would be a losing business. “If I could only find the right stamp of a governess,” said Mrs. Dainty, sighing again. “I think I know a person who would just suit you.” “Oh, indeed! Where can I see her?” “Have you any acquaintance with Mrs. Ashton?” “No,—though I have long desired to be numbered among her friends.” “Only yesterday she mentioned to me,” said the visitor, “that she knew a highly-accomplished English lady, a widow, whose husband died in the East India Company’s service, and asked me to bear her in remembrance if I should hear of any one who wanted a governess.” “How fortunate!” exclaimed Mrs. Dainty. “An educated English lady! What more could I desire?” “Nothing. Shall I speak to Mrs. Ashton about you, and learn the lady’s address?” “By all means. Won’t you see her this very day?” “If you desire it.” “Oh, I do desire it above all things.”