“Is this the New Woman breaking her shell?” said mother.  “I don’t think I quite like the interpretation scheme either as Amy or as you outline it, though I am open to persuasion.  Here is the doctor.  Let us hear what he says.”

It was not Dr. Wainwright, but my father, Dr. Raeburn, except on a Friday, the most genial of men.  Amy perched herself on his knee and ran her slim fingers through his thick dark hair.  To him our plans were explained, and he at once gave them his approval.

“As I understand you, Gracie,” Dr. Raeburn said, “you wish this reading business as a stepping-stone.  You would form classes, would you not?  And your music could also be utilized.  You had good instruction, I fancy, both here and over the water.”

“Indeed, yes, Dr. Raeburn; and I could give lessons in music, but they wouldn’t bring me in much, here at least.”

“Come to my study,” said the doctor, rising.  “Amy, you have ruffled up my hair till I look like a cherub before the flood.  Come, all of you, Dorothy and the kids.”

“You don’t call us kids, do you, papa?”

“Young ladies, then, at your service,” said the doctor, with a low bow.  “I’ve a letter from my old friend, Vernon Hastings.  I’ll read it to you when I can find it,” said the good man, rummaging among the books, papers, and correspondence with which his great table was littered.  “Judge Hastings,” the doctor went on, “lost his wife in Venice a year ago.  He has three little girls in need, of special advantages; he cannot bear to send them away to school, and his mother, who lives with him and orders the house, won’t listen to having a resident governess.  Ah, this is the letter!” The doctor read: 

“I wish you could help me, Charley, in the dilemma in which I find myself.  Lucy and Helen and my little Madge are to be educated, and the question is how, when, and where?  They are delicate, and I cannot yet make up my mind to the desolate house I would have should they go to school.  Grandmamma has pronounced against a governess, and I don’t like the day-schools of the town.  Now is not one of your daughters musical, and perhaps another sufficiently mistress of the elementary branches to teach these babies?  I will pay liberally the right person or persons for three hours’ work a day.  But I must have well-bred girls, ladies, to be with my trio of bairns.”

“I couldn’t teach arithmetic or drawing,” said Grace.  “I would be glad to try my hand at music, and geography and German and French.  I might be weak on spelling.”

“I don’t think that of you, Grace,” said mother.

“I am ashamed to say it’s true,” said Grace.

Amy interrupted.  “How far away is Judge Hastings’ home, papa?”

“An hour’s ride, Amy dear.  No, forty minutes’ ride by rail.  I’ll go and see him.  I’ve no doubt he will pay you generously, Grace, for your services, if you feel that you can take up this work seriously.”