hutter partly opened, and he looked out, perhaps with associations
of his own, on the scene I had been contemplating.

It was not for nearly an hour after, that my father suddenly, after his
wont, in a few words, apprised me of the arrival of Madame de la Rougierre
to be my governess, highly recommended and perfectly qualified. My heart
sank with a sure presage of ill. I already disliked, distrusted, and feared
her.

I had more than an apprehension of her temper and fear of possibly abused
authority. The large-featured, smirking phantom, saluting me so oddly in
the moonlight, retained ever after its peculiar and unpleasant hold upon my
nerves.

'Well, Miss Maud, dear, I hope you'll like your new governess--for it's
more than _I_ do, just at present at least,' said Mrs. Rusk, sharply--she
was awaiting me in my room. 'I hate them French-women; they're not natural,
I think. I gave her her supper in my room. She eats like a wolf, she does,
the great raw-boned hannimal. I wish you saw her in bed as I did. I put her
next the clock-room--she'll hear the hours betimes, I'm thinking. You never
saw such a sight. The great long nose and hollow cheeks of her, and oogh!
such a mouth! I felt a'most like little Red Riding-Hood--I did, Miss.'

Here honest Mary Quince, who enjoyed Mrs. Rusk's satire, a weapon in which
she was not herself strong, laughed outright.

'Turn down the bed, Mary. She's very agreeable--she is, just now--all
new-comers is; but she did not get many compliments from me, Miss--no,
I rayther think not. I wonder why honest English girls won't answer the
gentry for governesses, instead of them gaping, scheming, wicked furriners?
Lord forgi' me, I think they're all alike.'

Next morning I made acquaintance with Madame de la Rougierre. She was tall,
masculine, a little ghastly perhaps, and draped in purple silk, with a
lace cap, and great bands of black hair, too thick and black, perhaps, to
correspond quite naturally with her bleached and sallow skin, her hollow
jaws, and the fine but grim wrinkles traced about her brows and eyelids.
She smiled, she nodded, and then for a good while she scanned me in silence
with a steady cunning eye, and a stern smile.

'And how is she named--what is Mademoiselle's name?' said the tall
stranger.

'_Maud_, Madame.'

'Maud!--what pretty name! Eh bien! I am very sure my dear Maud she will
be very good little girl--is not so?--and I am sure I shall love you vary
moche. And what