The Buccaneers by Edith Wharton Read Free Book Online Page B

the Closson girt—” She broke off, embarrassed by the recollection of the Colonel’s injunctions.
    â€œThe tall young girl with auburn hair? I understand that one of the masqueraders was her brother.”
    â€œYes; her half-brother. Mrs. Closson is a Brazilian”—but again Mrs. St. George checked the note of disparagement. “Brazilian” was bad enough, without adding anything pejorative. “The Colonel—Colonel St. George—has business relations with Mr. Closson. I never met them before....”
    â€œAh,” said Miss Testvalley.
    â€œAnd I’m sure my girls and the Elmsworths would never...”
    â€œOh, quite so; I understand. I’ve no doubt the idea was Lord Richard’s.”
    She uttered the name as though it were familiar to her, and Mrs. St. George caught at Lord Richard. “You knew him already? He appears to be a friend of the Clossons.”
    â€œI knew him in England; yes. I was with Lady Brightlingsea for two years—as his sisters’ governess.”
    Mrs. St. George gazed awestruck down this new and resonant perspective. “Lady Brittlesey?” (It was thus that Miss Testvalley had pronounced the name.)
    â€œThe Marchioness of Brightlingsea; his mother. It’s a very large family. I was with two of the younger daughters, Lady Honoria and Lady Ulrica Marable. I think Lord Richard is the third son. But one saw him at home so very seldom....”
    Mrs. St. George drew a deep breath. She had not bargained for this glimpse into the labyrinth of the peerage, and she felt a little dizzy, as though all the Brightlingseas and the Marables were in the room, and she ought to make the proper gestures, and didn’t even know what to call them without her husband’s being there to tell her. She wondered whether the experiment of an English governess might not after all make life too complicated. And this one’s eyebrows were so black and ironical.
    â€œLord Richard,” continued Miss Testvalley, “always has to have his little joke.” Her tone seemed to dismiss him, and all his titled relations with him. Mrs. St. George was relieved. “But your daughter Annabel—perhaps,” Miss Testvalley continued, “you would like to give me some general idea of the stage she has reached in her different studies?” Her manner was now distinctly professional, and Mrs. St. George’s spirits drooped again. If only the Colonel had been there—as he would have been, but for that woman! Or even Nan herself... Mrs. St. George looked helplessly at the governess. But suddenly an inspiration came to her. “I have always left these things to the girls’ teachers,” she said with majesty.
    â€œOh, quite,” Miss Testvalley assented.
    â€œAnd their father; their father takes a great interest in their studies—when time permits...” Mrs. St. George continued. “But of course his business interests... which are enormous...”
    â€œI think I understand,” Miss Testvalley softly agreed.
    Mrs. St. George again sighed her relief. A governess who understood without the need of tiresome explanations—was it not more than she had hoped for? Certainly Miss Testvalley looked insignificant; but the eyes under her expressive eyebrows were splendid, and she had an air of firmness. And the miracle was that Nan should already have taken a fancy to her. If only the other girls didn’t laugh her out of it! “Of course,” Mrs. St. George began again, “what I attach most importance to is that my girls should be taught to—to behave like ladies.”
    Miss Testvalley murmured: “Oh, yes. Drawing-room accomplishments.”
    â€œI may as well tell you that I don’t care very much for the girls they associate with here. Saratoga is not what it used to be. In New York, of course, it will be different. I hope you can persuade Annabel to study.”
    She could not