sides of a peach. It was the sort of bedroom that belonged to a film-set, and not an En glish country house. Mallory felt that so strongly that she could only gaze about her in obvious astonishment.
Serena looked at her with a kind of triumph when she saw how taken aback the governess was.
“ Isn ’ t it a wonderful room? ” she demanded. “ Wouldn ’ t you love to sleep in it? ”
“ Quite candidly, ” answered Mallory, to her disappointment, “ I would not. It ’ s a room for a princess. ”
“ But Sonia is a princess, ” the child declared emphatically. “ Isn ’ t she, Mrs. Carpenter? Isn ’ t she, Rose? She ’ s the most beautiful person in the world, and she dances divinely. I ’ ve seen her—I ’ ve seen her as the ‘ Sleeping Beauty ’ and as a dying swan, and as an ice maiden. Uncle Raife thinks she ’ s beautiful, too, and that ’ s why he ’ s had this room got ready for her. It ’ s her room—nobody else would be allowed to sleep in it ... ”
“ You talk too much, Miss Serena, ” Mrs. Carpenter said disapprovingly. “ And you ’ re getting in our way up here, so stop fingering that crystal bowl, and put those brushes back on the table, and go downstairs with Miss Gower. Haven ’ t you any lessons to learn? ”
“ I can ’ t learn any lessons, ” Serena flung back at her with pleased defiance, “ because we haven ’ t got any books for me to learn from, except dull old books from the library. And Uncle Raife does think Miss Martingale beautiful ... ”
“ Serena! ” Mallory exclaimed, in a voice which caused her pupil to swing round reluctantly and follow her, pouting a good deal, from the room. But outside o n the landing she had the last word.
“ Well, just wait until you see her, and her cl othes! You haven ’ t got any like them—not even a little bit like them ... ”
“ My dear child, ” Mallory reminded her gently, “I’ m only a governess. ”
Serena had the grace to look faintly ashamed. She slipped a repentant hand into Mallory ’ s.
“ All the same, I like you, ” she said. “ I like you even better than Miss Martingale! ”
Two days later, it being the first day of March, which had come in like a lamb, the master of Morven Grange returned to his home in Herefordshire about four o ’ clock in the afternoon. The old house looked peaceful and mellow in the declining daylight; every window shone, and smoke ascended into the fading blue above the twisted chimneys. In the drawing-room there were banked-up sheaves of lilac, and every bowl and vase was filled with a positive blaze of spring flowers, which brought the freshness of the out - of-doors into the elegant and beautifully-furnished room, centrally as well as electrically heated, so that the wide white Adam fireplace was flower-filled also.
Phipps, in his best black, waited on tenterhooks in the hall for the sound of car wheels on the drive, and the moment when he could swing wide the front door. And when that moment arrived Mallory, who with Serena beside her, had watched from the great window at the head of the stairs for the cars to draw up—there were actually three—made her escape to the school-room, dragging a most unwilling Serena with her.
After all, argued the child, they were missing all the fun of the arrival, and why did they not go downstairs into the hall to welcome the vis i tors as well as her uncle? She knew Miss Martingale—she h ad had tea with her in the drawing-room when she came to Morven before, and had gone down often after dinner to be made a fuss of and entertained. Her un cl e liked having her downstairs...
But despite all these coaxings and arguments, Mallory remained firm, and her edict was that t h ey must remain out of sight in their own quarters until such time as they were sent for, or Serena was sent for. And in the end Serena was won over to good humour and acquiescence by the promise of being allowed to stay up and have dinner with Mallory in her own
Serena looked at her with a kind of triumph when she saw how taken aback the governess was.
“ Isn ’ t it a wonderful room? ” she demanded. “ Wouldn ’ t you love to sleep in it? ”
“ Quite candidly, ” answered Mallory, to her disappointment, “ I would not. It ’ s a room for a princess. ”
“ But Sonia is a princess, ” the child declared emphatically. “ Isn ’ t she, Mrs. Carpenter? Isn ’ t she, Rose? She ’ s the most beautiful person in the world, and she dances divinely. I ’ ve seen her—I ’ ve seen her as the ‘ Sleeping Beauty ’ and as a dying swan, and as an ice maiden. Uncle Raife thinks she ’ s beautiful, too, and that ’ s why he ’ s had this room got ready for her. It ’ s her room—nobody else would be allowed to sleep in it ... ”
“ You talk too much, Miss Serena, ” Mrs. Carpenter said disapprovingly. “ And you ’ re getting in our way up here, so stop fingering that crystal bowl, and put those brushes back on the table, and go downstairs with Miss Gower. Haven ’ t you any lessons to learn? ”
“ I can ’ t learn any lessons, ” Serena flung back at her with pleased defiance, “ because we haven ’ t got any books for me to learn from, except dull old books from the library. And Uncle Raife does think Miss Martingale beautiful ... ”
“ Serena! ” Mallory exclaimed, in a voice which caused her pupil to swing round reluctantly and follow her, pouting a good deal, from the room. But outside o n the landing she had the last word.
“ Well, just wait until you see her, and her cl othes! You haven ’ t got any like them—not even a little bit like them ... ”
“ My dear child, ” Mallory reminded her gently, “I’ m only a governess. ”
Serena had the grace to look faintly ashamed. She slipped a repentant hand into Mallory ’ s.
“ All the same, I like you, ” she said. “ I like you even better than Miss Martingale! ”
Two days later, it being the first day of March, which had come in like a lamb, the master of Morven Grange returned to his home in Herefordshire about four o ’ clock in the afternoon. The old house looked peaceful and mellow in the declining daylight; every window shone, and smoke ascended into the fading blue above the twisted chimneys. In the drawing-room there were banked-up sheaves of lilac, and every bowl and vase was filled with a positive blaze of spring flowers, which brought the freshness of the out - of-doors into the elegant and beautifully-furnished room, centrally as well as electrically heated, so that the wide white Adam fireplace was flower-filled also.
Phipps, in his best black, waited on tenterhooks in the hall for the sound of car wheels on the drive, and the moment when he could swing wide the front door. And when that moment arrived Mallory, who with Serena beside her, had watched from the great window at the head of the stairs for the cars to draw up—there were actually three—made her escape to the school-room, dragging a most unwilling Serena with her.
After all, argued the child, they were missing all the fun of the arrival, and why did they not go downstairs into the hall to welcome the vis i tors as well as her uncle? She knew Miss Martingale—she h ad had tea with her in the drawing-room when she came to Morven before, and had gone down often after dinner to be made a fuss of and entertained. Her un cl e liked having her downstairs...
But despite all these coaxings and arguments, Mallory remained firm, and her edict was that t h ey must remain out of sight in their own quarters until such time as they were sent for, or Serena was sent for. And in the end Serena was won over to good humour and acquiescence by the promise of being allowed to stay up and have dinner with Mallory in her own
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