The Determined Bachelor (11 page)

“Use your own judgment, Miss Calder,” said he. “I do not suppose it matters much in the case of a girl. To be frank, I never supposed females had need of textbooks in any case. Indeed, it was my impression the only tools necessary for their education were a sewing basket and a drawing pad. But if you must have texts, pray do not bother me about it.”

And this was how he perceived the female brain! Anne went away laughing to herself, but having endeavoured twice more to bring up the subject and having been twice more rebuffed in a similar style, she gave up. So long as she could be autonomous, she did not mind. And with a little inner toss of her head, she determined to prove just how fine Nicole's education could be under her tutelage. If it was as much for her own pride as for the child's betterment that she did so, it made little difference. Nicole would benefit for it, having as she did a keen curiosity and an amazing willingness to learn. Already this evening, Anne had felt a little thrill of triumph upon hearing her pupil narrate, in mind-boggling detail, some of the events of the Roman Conquest of Egypt. Sir Basil had looked in astonishment between the child and her governess, who only smiled calmly and corrected an error in the narration. She had been disappointed when the Baronet made no remark, and her first instinct now was to think he meant to congratulate her. “But,” said Anne to herself a moment later, “you had better not expect it. Such kind of men are incapable of admitting their own errors. I believe Sir Basil, for all his reputation of sagacity in diplomatic affairs, has very little sense of diplomacy with his underlings. Indeed, he ought to have, for everyone knows that people work harder when they are commended for their efforts.”

And so it was already with a negative sentiment in her heart that Anne took Nicole up to her bed and, leaving her with the promise that she should be up again directly herself, followed Sir Basil into the library.

She found the Ambassador standing by the fire with one arm upon the mantel. He was apparently so lost in thought that he did not notice her until she had stood in the doorway several moments together.

“Ah!” said he at last, with a start, “pray come in, Miss Calder. Here is a sofa by the fire, if you wish to be warm. I do not know if you are one of those females who condemns heat
upon their faces, but if you are, here is a fire screen. I have asked the servant to bring in a bottle of port. Do you drink port?” Sir Basil, altogether, seemed so unsure of how he ought to behave under the circumstances that Anne could not help smiling to herself.

Surely, she thought, he would not behave so nervously if I was not a governess. I suppose he believes there are two races of women: one very fine, used to drinking port, and abhorring heat upon their flesh, and another, quite rough and humble, made tipsy by a sip of wine, and able to tolerate any amount of warmth.” But aloud she said, with a mischievious desire to contradict his prejudices: “I am one of those females, Sir, who cares very little where she sits so long as I do not freeze to death. As to port, I am very fond of it, so you must not offer me too much.”

Obviously taken aback by this sally, Sir Basil blanched slightly. “Perhaps he thinks I shall down the whole bottle at one gulp!” laughed Anne to herself.

But the Baronet had soon composed himself again, and if he from time to time cast a nervous glance in the direction of her glass, he concealed his interest as well as may be expected of a gentleman who is not used to dealing with governesses at all, much less tipsy ones. His chief preoccupation, in any case, was soon made evident.

“I am afraid I have not been of much help to you thus far, Miss Calder,” said he when the wine had been brought in and poured. “I have left you pretty well to your own devices with my ward, and it may seem to you that I have not offered you as much assistance as I should have done. The reasons for this are two-fold: First, I have some obligations to the Foreign Office, which have taken up a great deal of my time. But even setting this aside, there is another reason. As you know, I am a bachelor, and unaccustomed to children. My ignorance is so vast in this area that it seemed to me I had better leave the chief business of Nicole's education to you. Indeed, my experience with little girls and what their education ought to be has been confined to what I have seen of my brother's daughter, and I must tell you that what I have witnessed of
her
has not made me complacent on the subject”

Anne could well understand this: her one encounter with Miss Hargate, on the occasion when she had been brought downstairs to meet her new cousin, had not inspired her with admiration. The Hargates were noisy, dirty, abominably spoiled children, and from meeting them once, Anne was relieved
of any desire of ever seeing them again. Indeed, this was an impression she had taken away of the whole family. In half an hour they had impressed her as vulgar and rude, treating herself with contempt and her pupil with indifference. But she could not very well tell this to Sir Basil, and so she only smiled.

“But all little girls are not the same,” she ventured. “Indeed, they are as unlike as grown men and women. You ought not to form an impression of Nicole until you have grown to know her better. From what
I
have seen of her, she is as delightful a little person as ever I knew: full of curiosity, and exceedingly eager to please everyone—especially you, if I may say so, Sir.”

“I am very glad to hear you speak so well of her, Miss Calder,” replied the Baronet stiffly. “Lady Cardovan told me that I could rely upon your judgment, and so I am doubly pleased that you approve of your pupil's habits.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Anne, laughing, “I did not say I approved her habits! I only said that she is a delightful child, and if she is guided properly, will no doubt make a delightful woman.”

Sir Basil seemed unsure of his ground. He looked doubtfully at Anne, whose eyes he had avoided throughout their conversation, and said with some hesitation, “I am afraid I do not quite understand you.”

“I only mean,” continued Anne, smiling despite herself at Sir Basil's stiff manner, “that Nicole needs a great deal of guidance. Her mind is so quick and her desire to please so thorough, that if she has
that
she cannot fail to be a fine young woman. But she has evidently received a great many peculiar notions from her father, and to unravel
those
may be more difficult than anything else.”

“What do you mean, precisely?” inquired the gentleman, seeming almost to relax a little.

“To begin with, I believe she thinks that the highest aspiration possible for a woman is to be a
femme fatale
.”

“And is she not correct?” inquired Sir Basil with a sardonic smile. “Is that not what every woman longs to be? Surely they must begin at an early age, if they wish to succeed.”

“I suppose you are right. A great many of my sex must think so. And yet it is ironic that those who generally succeed are those who strive least for it. Lady Cardovan, for example—if you will excuse my saying so—is a very great lady, and must certainly have been a sort of
femme fatale
in her youth. And yet I have not observed that she is fond of bathing
in milk, nor of any of the other vanities which my pupil associates with that state. Miss Lessington devours her history lessons in order to discover just such secrets. She has got it firmly in her mind in order to please her father's memory, she must turn herself as quickly as possible into a
grande dame
.”

“That is a most remarkable theory,” observed Sir Basil. “It appears that I am destined to be as much educated by this process as my ward. But pray go on, Miss Calder—what on earth could have persuaded my cousin that his daughter ought to become such a creature?”

“I suppose it is every father's wish that his daughter will be the finest lady in the world,” replied Anne (thinking of what her father's disappointment must have been upon finding that he had sired a novelist and three very ordinary marriage-minded girls). “And I believe your cousin was not much mistaken in the thinking that
his
daughter was up to the task. Indeed, Nicole has all the raw elements of one. It is my own opinion, however, that she ought to be all the more carefully guided, just for that reason. Were she a dull, plain, stupid girl, I should not worry much about teaching her to think. I should simply give her, as you suggested, a sewing box and a drawing pad, and hope she would grow passably accomplished.”

“Instead of which, you suggest that she be force-fed history and Greek?” Sir Basil inquired with a cynical smile. “Will that help her to find a husband any quicker?”

Now it was Anne's turn to be sardonic. “If you suppose the whole aim of womankind is to find a husband, then I suppose not. However, if you will allow that a woman has as much duty to cultivate her mind and tastes as a man, and that such cultivation will only help her to be a better, and a happier, person—whether she marry or no—then there can be no greater benefit to a young female than to be ‘force-fed' as much of history, Greek, and geography, and a knowledge of fine music and painting, as she can bear.”

Anne had spoken very forcefully, and now, conscious that her outbrust had amused Sir Basil, she felt a rush of heat in her cheeks.

“I suppose you find my convictions amusing,” she murmured, feeling more rage than mortification.

“On the contrary,” protested Sir Basil, but still with that smile which, more even than his condescension, annoyed her. “I find them perfectly admirable. It is only astonishing to
hear them voiced with so much passion. I am not used to hearing ladies vent much energy upon any greater subject than bonnets or balls.

“Then you are certainly not used to listening to them very often,” Anne could not help retorting.

Now an elegant eyebrow mounted almost imperceptibly above an amused gray eye. “Certainly I am not in the habit of being scolded by them,” said he softly.

Anne saw that she had gone too far. For the first time, she felt the confines of her station. Hitherto, she had been more amused by it than suffocated, conscious as she was of playing a trick upon the world. But all at once she longed for the freedom of her true social station, if only that she might contradict this insufferable man as soundly as she would have any other.

“Oh, that I might once have met him at a dinner party and heard such insults cast upon my sex! Were I not employed by him as a governess, I should let him know what I think of him!” she cried inwardly. The idea delighted her, but with the greatest effort in the world, she reminded herself that she had made her own bed, and now she must lie in it. The benefits, in the long run, must outweigh the wounds to her pride, and only this thought prevented her from speaking her mind. Instead, she bit her lip, and murmured:

“I beg your pardon, Sir. The passion of the moment made me foolish. It is only that you seem to take so dim a view of my sex, and I believed I might persuade you otherwise.”

Sir Basil was regarding her in astonishment, and had Anne's gaze not been directed at her hands, she might have noticed a very different kind of smile come over his face. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and when the young lady looked up again, the Baronet was wearing his old, stiff expression. He coughed once, looked embarrassed, and muttered, “Never mind, never mind. In any case, we have veered away from the subject. It was, I believe, Miss Lessington's education. I see that Lady Cardovan was not mistaken in calling you unusual. Indeed, I do not know much about other governesses, but I suppose they cannot all be like you.”

“If you had rather I did not teach Nicole history, Sir——” exclaimed Anne, colouring. But she was cut off.

“No! No! I did not mean to criticize your methods. You must be the expert in this case. I suppose, as you say, I do not know much about females. Well, well! What I really wished to know was—” and now Sir Basil, who could not
possibly have looked more uncomfortable, cleared his throat and gave her a pleading look—“what sort of role I ought to take in all of this? Lady Cardovan has hinted to me that I ought to do more; but in truth, I am quite perplexed about it What, Miss Calder, do you suggest?”

Anne very nearly took pity upon the man now, seeing him look as helpless and innocent as a baby. She could not help softening a little from her former rage, and looked down to hide a smile.

“That you behave as kindly as possible to Nicole,” said she at last. “The poor child must be exceedingly lonely, and more unhappy than her pride will let her admit. She has been asked to do what many adults would find difficult—to go from her old home, and a way of life she understood, to something quite different. If she is sometimes a little absurd in her idea of what is required of her, she must be excused, and her only guide till now has been a father who cannot have known how much he asked of her. I cannot help but condemn Mr. Lessington in my heart for having laid such great plans for his daughter, but I suppose he meant well. Our own greatest help to her must be to let her see that she is loved, exactly as she is.” Anne looked up to see what Sir Basil's reaction was and seeing only an intent, curious look upon his face, rushed on, “Sir Basil, I hope you will not think I am too bold, but what Nicole needs most of all is a father! I believe she misses her own papa more than she will admit, and longs for the same kind of affection she had from him. You could not do better than to try, as much as you can, to let her see that you like her.”

“Why! I do not
dislike
her, Miss Calder!” responded Sir Basil, amazed. “To be sure, she has got some rather peculiar notions, but she is a perfectly amiable little girl. I do not know sometimes what to make of her rambling little speeches, and to be perfectly truthful, I have already taken a keen dislike to her papa. I never heard so many smug pronouncements in all my life. But as to Miss Lessington, why, I suppose she is as well as most little girls.”