'I should so like to see her, my dear. It is not mere curiosity, I assure you. In fact, curiosity has nothing on earth to do with it. A governess may be a very useful or a very useless person; but she may also be about the most pernicious inmate imaginable. She may teach you a bad accent, and worse manners, and heaven knows what beside. Send the housekeeper, my dear, to tell her that I am going to see her.' 'I had better go myself, perhaps,' I said, fearing a collision between Mrs. Rusk and the bitter Frenchwoman. 'Very well, dear.' And away I ran, not sorry somehow to escape before Captain Oakley returned. As I went along the passage, I was thinking whether my dress could be so very ridiculous as my old cousin thought it, and trying in vain to recollect any evidence of a similar contemptuous estimate on the part of that beautiful and garrulous dandy. I could not--quite the reverse, indeed. Still I was uncomfortable and feverish--girls of my then age will easily conceive how miserable, under similar circumstances, such a misgiving would make them. It was a long way to Madame's room. I met Mrs. Rusk bustling along the passage with a housemaid. 'How is Madame?' I asked. 'Quite well, I believe,' answered the housekeeper, drily. 'Nothing the matter that _I_ know of. She eat enough for two to-day. I wish _I_ could sit in my room doing nothing.' Madame was sitting, or rather reclining, in a low arm-chair, when I entered the room, close to the fire, as was her wont, her feet extended near to the bars, and a little coffee equipage beside her. She stuffed a book hastily between her dress and the chair, and received me in a state of langour which, had it not been for Mrs. Rusk's comfortable assurances, would have frightened me. 'I hope you are better, Madame,' I said, approaching. 'Better than I deserve, my dear cheaile, sufficiently well. The people are all so good, trying me with every little thing, like a bird; here is café--Mrs. Rusk-a, poor woman, I try to swallow a little to please her.' 'And your cold, is it better?' She shook her head languidly, her elbow resting on the chair, and three finger-tips supporting her forehead, and then she made a little sigh, looking down from the corners of her eyes, in an interesting dejection. 'Je sens des lassitudes in all the members--but I am quaite 'appy, and though I suffer I am console and oblige des bontés, ma chère, que vous avez tous pour moi;' and with these words she turned a languid glance of gratitude on me which dropped on the ground. 'Lady Knollys wishes very much to see you, only for a few minutes, if you could admit her.' 'Vous savez les malades see _never_ visitors,' she replied with a startled sort of tartness, and a momentary energy. 'Besides, I cannot converse; je sens de temps en temps des douleurs de tête--of head, and of the ear, the right ear, it is parfois agony absolutely, and now it is here.'