And then, as she suddenly told herself, with a rather bitter feeling of revolt, the life she was leading now was not calculated to make her retain a look of youth.  Last week, in a fit of temper, Rosamund had said to her:—­“I only wish you could see yourself!  You look a regular ’govvy’!” She had laughed—­the rather spiteful words passing her by—­for she had never cared either for learning or teaching.  But now, as she gazed critically in her mirror, she told herself that, yes, she really did look rather like a nice governess—­the sort of young woman a certain type of smart lady would describe as her “treasure”.  Forty or fifty years ago that was the sort of human being into which she would have turned almost automatically when poverty had first knocked at the door of Old Place.  Now, thank God, people who could afford to pay well for a governess wanted a trained teacher, not an untrained gentlewoman for their children.

But Betty did not waste much time staring at herself.  Throwing her head back with what had become a characteristic gesture, she went off and called her sisters and brothers before running lightly down the back stairs.

Nanna was already pottering about the kitchen.  She had laid and lit the fire, and put the kettle on to boil for Mrs. Tosswill’s early cup of tea.  The old woman looked up as Betty came into the kitchen, and a rather touching expression came over her old face.  She had a strong, almost a maternal affection for her eldest nurseling, and she wondered how Miss Betty was feeling this morning.  Nanna had been told of the coming visitor by Timmy, but with that peculiar touch of delicacy so often found in her class, she had said nothing about it to Betty.

“Well, Nanna?  I expect Mrs. Tosswill has told you that Mr. Radmore is coming to-day, and that he’s to have George’s room.”

Nanna nodded.  “It’s quite ready, Miss Betty.  I went in there yesterday afternoon while you was all out.  He’ll find everything there just as he left it.  Eh, dear, I do mind how those dear boys loved their stamps and butterflies.”

Betty sighed, a sharp, quick sigh.  After calling Jack she had thought of going into the room which had been her brother’s and Godfrey’s joint room in the long, long ago.  And then she had decided that she couldn’t bear to do so.  The room had never been slept in since George had spent his last happy leave for now there was never any occasion to put a visitor in what was still called by Nanna “Master George’s room.”

“I expect he’ll arrive for tea,” said Betty, “and I was wondering whether we couldn’t make one of those big seed cakes he and George used to be so fond of.”

“That’s provided for, too,” said Nanna quietly.

And then, all at once, almost as though she were compelled to do so by something outside herself, Betty went across the kitchen and threw her arms round her old nurse’s neck and kissed her.

“There, there,” said Nanna soothingly, “do you mind much, my dearie!”