“A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. ‘You could have fetched me home. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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