a pity she has such an odd name.  Mamma thought of asking her if she would mind taking another when she came; but papa thought she might object.  Lady Battledown makes all her governesses take the same name; she gives 5 pounds more a year for the purpose.  I forget what it is she calls them; I think it’s Johnson (which to me always suggests a lady’s maid).  Governesses shouldn’t have too pretty a name; they shouldn’t have a nicer name than the family.

I suppose you heard from the Desmonds that I did not go back to England with them.  When it began to be talked about that Georgina should be taken abroad, mamma wrote to me that I had better stop in Paris for a month with Harold, so that she could pick me up on their way to Hyeres.  It saves the expense of my journey to Kingscote and back, and gives me the opportunity to “finish” a little in French.

You know Harold came here six weeks ago, to get up his French for those dreadful examinations that he has to pass so soon.  He came to live with some French people that take in young men (and others) for this purpose; it’s a kind of coaching place, only kept by women.  Mamma had heard it was very nice; so she wrote to me that I was to come and stop here with Harold.  The Desmonds brought me and made the arrangement, or the bargain, or whatever you call it.  Poor Harold was naturally not at all pleased; but he has been very kind, and has treated me like an angel.  He is getting on beautifully with his French; for though I don’t think the place is so good as papa supposed, yet Harold is so immensely clever that he can scarcely help learning.  I am afraid I learn much less, but, fortunately, I have not to pass an examination—­except if mamma takes it into her head to examine me.  But she will have so much to think of with Georgina that I hope this won’t occur to her.  If it does, I shall be, as Harold says, in a dreadful funk.

This is not such a nice place for a girl as for a young man, and the Desmonds thought it exceedingly odd that mamma should wish me to come here.  As Mrs. Desmond said, it is because she is so very unconventional.  But you know Paris is so very amusing, and if only Harold remains good-natured about it, I shall be content to wait for the caravan (that’s what he calls mamma and the children).  The person who keeps the establishment, or whatever they call it, is rather odd, and exceedingly foreign; but she is wonderfully civil, and is perpetually sending to my door to see if I want anything.  The servants are not at all like English servants, and come bursting in, the footman (they have only one) and the maids alike, at all sorts of hours, in the most sudden way.  Then when one rings, it is half an hour before they come.  All this is very uncomfortable, and I daresay it will be worse at Hyeres.  There, however, fortunately, we shall have our own people.