“On her way to bed, poor soul, under the care of the housekeeper,” Linley answered.

“Anything infectious, my dear Herbert?” Mrs. Presty inquired appearing at the breakfast-room door.

Linley addressed his reply to his wife: 

“Nothing more serious, Catherine, than want of strength.  She was in such a state of fatigue, after our long night journey, that I had to lift her out of the carriage.”

Mrs. Presty listened with an appearance of the deepest interest.  “Quite a novelty in the way of a governess,” she said.  “May I ask what her name is?”

“Sydney Westerfield.”

Mrs. Presty looked at her daughter and smiled satirically.

Mrs. Linley remonstrated.

“Surely,” she said, “you don’t object to the young lady’s name!”

“I have no opinion to offer, Catherine.  I don’t believe in the name.”

“Oh, mamma, do you suspect that it’s an assumed name?”

“My dear, I haven’t a doubt that it is.  May I ask another question?” the old lady continued, turning to Linley.  “What references did Miss Westerfield give you?”

“No references at all.”

Mrs. Presty rose with the alacrity of a young woman, and hurried to the door.  “Follow my example,” she said to her daughter, on her way out.  “Lock up your jewel-box.”

Linley drew a deep breath of relief when he was left alone with his wife.  “What makes your mother so particularly disagreeable this morning?” he inquired.

“She doesn’t approve, dear, of my leaving it to you to choose a governess for Kitty.”

“Where is Kitty?”

“Out on her pony for a ride over the hills.  Why did you send a telegram, Herbert, to prepare me for the governess?  Did you really think I might be jealous of Miss Westerfield?”

Linley burst out laughing.  “No such idea entered my head,” he answered.  “It isn’t in you, my dear, to be jealous.”

Mrs. Linley was not quite satisfied with this view of her character.  Her husband’s well-intended compliment reminded her that there are occasions when any woman may be jealous, no matter how generous and how gentle she may be.  “We won’t go quite so far as that,” she said to him, “because—­” She stopped, unwilling to dwell too long on a delicate subject.  He jocosely finished the sentence for her.  “Because we don’t know what may happen in the future?” he suggested; making another mistake by making a joke.

Mrs. Linley returned to the subject of the governess.

“I don’t at all say what my mother says,” she resumed; “but was it not just a little indiscreet to engage Miss Westerfield without any references?”

“Unless I am utterly mistaken,” Linley replied, “you would have been quite as indiscreet, in my place.  If you had seen the horrible woman who persecuted and insulted her—­”

His wife interrupted him.  “How did all this happen, Herbert?  Who first introduced you to Miss Westerfield?”