Her eyes were fixed on me. They betrayed nothing, but the lips moved a little. They tightened as though she did not exactly like what she saw. I told myself that I was allowing Sally Nullens and Emily Philpots to influence me.
“Mistress Connalt has been telling us something of her teaching programme,” said my mother. “It sounds very interesting. I think, Priscilla, you should show her her room. Then you might let her see the schoolroom. Mistress Connalt says that what she wants is to get down to work as soon as possible.”
“Would you like to see your room?” I asked.
She said she would, and I led her out of the room.
As we mounted the staircase, she said, “It’s a beautiful house. What a mercy it was not destroyed during the war.”
“My father worked hard to preserve it,” I replied.
“Ah!” It was a quick intake of breath. She was walking behind me and I could feel her eyes on me, which made me feel uncomfortable, and I was glad when we had mounted the staircase and could walk side by side.
“I gather your home is a rectory,” I said conversationally.
“Yes, it’s in Westering. Do you know Westering?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“It is in Sussex.”
“I hope you don’t find it bleak here. It is, they say in the southeast. We’re near the coast, too. We get the full force of the prevailing wind which is east.”
“It sounds like a geography lesson,” she said, and her voice had laughter hi it.
I was pleased and I felt happier after that. I showed her her room, which was next to the schoolroom and not very large. Emily Philpots had occupied it, but she had been moved to a room on the floor above, next to Sally Nullens. My mother had said that the governess should be next to the schoolroom. It was another grievance for poor old Emily.
“I hope it is comfortable,” I said.
She turned to me and replied: “It’s luxurious compared with the rectory.” Her eyes went to the fire in the grate, which my mother had ordered should be lighted. “It was so cold hi the rectory, I used to dread the winter.”
I thought then: I believe I’m going to like her.
I left her to unpack and wash, telling her that in an hour’s time I would come up and show her the schoolroom, where we could look at some of my books and I could explain to her what I had been doing. I would show her the house and gardens if she would care to see them.
She thanked me and she smiled at me rather shyly. “I think I am going to be very glad I came here,” she said.
I went down to my parents. As was to be expected they were talking about the new governess.
“A very self-possessed woman,” said my mother.
“She has a certain poise without doubt,” replied my father.
My mother smiled at me. “Here’s Priscilla. Well, my dear, what do you think of her?”
“It’s too soon to say,” I parried.
“Since when have you become so cautious?” My mother continued to smile at me. “I think she will be very good.”
“She is clearly well brought up,” added my father. “I think, Bella, she should join us for meals.”
“Join us for meals! The governess!”
“Oh, come now, you can see she is different from old Philpots.”
“Undoubtedly different,” agreed my mother. “But to join us at table! What if there are guests?”
“She’ll mingle, I don’t doubt. She seems articulate enough.”
“What when the boys come home?”
“Well…what?”
“Do you think…”
“I certainly think you cannot condemn a young woman of her breeding to lonely trays in her room. Obviously she can’t be with the servants.”
“It is always like that with governesses. How I should hate it!”
“What do you think, Priscilla?” said my father, and so astonishing me by asking my opinion for the first time in my life-I certainly never remembered its happening before-that I stammered and could find no ready reply. “Let her join us,” he went on, “and we’ll see how it works.”
The servants would think it very strange that one who was only slightly higher in the social scale than they were should sit with the family at dinner. I knew that there would be a great deal of gossip in the Nullens-Philpots combine.
I couldn’t help thinking that it was rather mysterious that my father should concern himself first with the state of my education and then the comfort of my governess.
So there was mystery. I should not have been myself if I did not wonder what it was all about. Christabel Connalt would bring change, I knew. I could feel it in the air.
For the next few days she was the centre of attention in the house. Sally Nullens and Emily Philpots discussed her endlessly and the rest of the servants only slightly less so. Naturally I spent more time with her than anyone and I felt I was gradually getting to know her. She was not easy to know; I changed my opinion of her from hour to hour. There were times when I thought her completely self-sufficient and at others I seemed to sense a certain vulnerability. It was that telltale mouth which would turn down at the corners when it expressed all sorts of emotions. There were times when I fancied she harboured some sort of resentment.
