"No:" the _no_ was hesitating. "He is dangerously attractive: at least
he attracts me. I'm all the time wondering what he is thinking, which
keeps me perpetually thinking of him. He is a Southerner, you know, and
was in the army; so you must be very careful,'my dear mees,' as Mr.
Brown says, not to come out with your 'truly loyal' sentiments: he
won't like them."
"I don't care whether he likes them or not." Miss Featherstone's face
was crimson: it was the first spark of temper she had shown since she
came into the house.
Mrs. Pinckney looked at her in surprise, then laughed: "I'm delighted
to see something human about you: I thought you were a saint."
"By no manner of means," returned the governess curtly.
"I shall warn Dick not to get upon the subject of the war," was the
note that Mrs. Pinckney, inconsequent as she generally was, made of the
scene.--"But I'm forgetting why I sent for you," she said aloud. "I
want you to go to town and buy Christmas presents and quantities of
things to eat and drink. I was going myself, but I never can count upon
a day as to being well with any certainty," with rather an ostentatious
sigh. "I've made out a list: there's plenty of money, isn't there?"
Miss Featherstone had the care of the money and accounts: "Yes,"
hesitatingly; "that is--"
"No matter," interrupted Mrs.
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