Chapter 15 - Page 2

superiority of Betts Shoreham's,
on an acquaintance. The smile of the latter, in particular, was as winning
and amiable as that of a girl. It was that smile, on the one hand, and his
active, never dormant sympathy for her situation, on the other, which,
united, had made such an inroad on the young governess's affections.

"It's deuced cold, Betts," said John, as he came near the fire; "this
delightful country of ours has some confounded hard winters. I wonder
if it be patriotic to say, OUR winters?"

"It's all common property, Monson--but, what have become of your
sister and Mademoiselle Hennequin? They were both here a minute
since, and have vanished like--"

"What?--ghosts!--no, you dare not call them THAT, lest their spirits
take it in dudgeon. Julie is no ghost, though she is sometimes so delicate
and ethereal, and as for Henny--"

"Who?" exclaimed Betts, doubting if his ears were true.

"Henny, Tote and Moll's governess. Whom do you think I could mean,
else? I always call her Henny, en famille, and I look upon you as almost
one of us since our travels."

{en famille = at home}

"I'm sure I can scarcely be grateful enough, my dear fellow--but, you do
not call her so to her face?"

"Why--no--perhaps not exactly in her very teeth--and beautiful teeth
she has, Betts--Julie's won't compare with them."

"Miss Monson has fine teeth, notwithstanding. Perhaps Mademoiselle
Hennequin--"

"Yes, Henny has the best teeth of any girl I know. They are none of
your pearls--some pearls are yellowish, you know--but they are teeth;
just what ought to be in a handsome girl's mouth. I have no objection to
pearls in a necklace, or in the pockets, but TEETH are what are wanted
in a mouth, and Henny has just the finest set I know of."

Betts Shoreham fidgetted at the "Henny," and he had the weakness, at
the moment, to wish the young governess were not in a situation to be
spoken of so unceremoniously. He had not time to express this feeling,
before John Monson got a glimpse of me, and had me under
examination beneath the light of a very powerful lamp. I declare that,
knowing his aversion to our species, I felt a glow in all my system at the
liberties he was taking.

"What have we here?" exclaimed John Monson, in surprise; "has Miss
Flowergarden made a call, and is this her card?"

"I believe that pocket-handkerchief belongs to your sister," answered
Betts, drily, "if that be what you mean."

"Jule! well, I am sorry to hear it. I did hope that no sister of MINE
would run into any such foolish extravagance--do you own