silly fancies at times." He kisses her lids warmly, tenderly, until
the heavy drops beneath press through and run all down her charming
childish face. "I am sure of this, at least," he says, hopefully,
"that you like me better than any living man."

"Well, I do, indeed," replies she, in a curious tone, that might be
suggestive of surprise at her own discovery of this fact. "But, then,
how bad you are to me at times! Dear Dorian,"--laying one hand, with
a pathetic gesture, on his cheek,--"do not be cross to me again."

"My sweetest!--my best beloved!" says Mr. Branscombe, instantly,
drawing his breath a little quickly, and straining her to his heart.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"The wisdom of this world is idiotism."--DECKER.

"If thou desirest to be borne with, thou must bear also with
others."--KEMPIS.

It takes some time to produce another governess suited to the
Redmonds' wants. At length, however, the desired treasure is procured,
and forwarded, "with care," to the vicarage.

On inspection, she proves to be a large, gaunt, high-cheek-boned
daughter of Caledonia, with a broad accent, a broader foot, and
uncomfortably red hair. She comes armed with testimonials of the most
severely complimentary description, and with a pronounced opinion that
"salary is not so much an object as a comfortable home."

Such a contrast to Georgie can scarcely be imagined. The Redmonds, in
a body, are covered with despair, and go about the house, after her
arrival, whispering in muffled tones, and casting blanched and
stricken glances at each other. Dire dismay reigns in their bosoms;
while the unconscious Scot unlocks her trunks, and shakes out her
gowns, and shows plainly, by her behavior, that she has come to sit
down before the citadel and carry on a prolonged siege.

To tea she descends with a solemn step and slow, that Amy designates
as a "thud." But yet at this first tea she gains a victory. Arthur,
the second boy, who has been wicked enough to get measles at school,
and who is now at home to recruit himself and be the terror of his
family, is at this time kept rather on short commons by his mother
because of his late illness. This means bread-and-butter _without_
jam,--a meaning the lively Arthur rather resents. Seeing which, the
Caledonian, opening her lips almost for the first time, gives it as
her opinion that jam, taken moderately, is wholesome.

She goes even farther, and insinuates it may assist digest