"It would be easy enough to get one, but for this trouble about Ethel's music," grumbled Mrs. Castlemaine. "I have a great mind to send her to the Grey Nunnery for her lessons. Sister Charlotte, I know, is perfect on the piano; and she would be thankful for the employment." "Papa would not let her go to the Nunnery," said the sharp girl. "He does not like the Grey Ladies." "I suppose he'd not. I'm sure, what with this disqualification and that disqualification, a good governess is as difficult to fix upon as----get off the table, my sweet child," hastily broke off Mrs. Castlemaine: "here's your papa." The Master of Greylands entered the red parlour, after his short interview in the yard with Commodore Teague. Miss Flora slipped past him, and disappeared. He saw a good deal to find fault with in her rude, tomboy ways; and she avoided him when she could. Taking the paper, he stirred the fire into a blaze, just as he had, not many minutes before, stirred his own fire upstairs. "It is a biting-cold day," he observed. "I think I must have caught a little chill, for I seem to feel cold in an unusual degree. What's that?" Mrs. Castlemaine held the letters still in her hand; and by the expression of her countenance, bent upon the contents, he could perceive there was some annoyance. "This governess does not do; it is as bad as the last. She lacked music; this one lacks French. Is it not provoking, James?" Mr. Castlemaine took up the letters and read them. "I should say she is just the sort of governess for Flora," he observed. "The testimonials are excellent." "But her want of French! Did you not observe that?" "I don't know that French is of so much consequence for Flora as the getting a suitable person to control her. One who will hold her under firm discipline. As it is, she is being ruined." "French not of consequence for Flora!" repeated Mrs. Castlemaine. "What can you mean, James?" "I said it was not of so much consequence, relatively speaking. Neither is it." "And while Ethel's French is perfect!" "What has that to do with it?" "I will never submit to see Flora inferior in accomplishments to Ethel, James. French I hold especially by: I have felt the want of it myself. Better, of the two, for her to fail in music than in speaking French. If it were not for Ethel's senseless whim of continuing to take music lessons, there would be no trouble." "Who's this, I wonder?" cried Mr. Castlemaine. He alluded to a visitor's ring at the hall bell. Flora came dashing in. "It's a gentleman in a fur coat," she said. "I watched him come up the avenue." "A gentleman in a fur coat!" repeated her mother. "Some one who has walked from Stilborough this cold day, I suppose." Miles entered. On his small silver waiter lay a card. He presented it to his master and spoke. "The gentleman says he wishes to see you, sir. I have shown him into the drawing-room."