“Yes indeed, Miss, thank God!”
On reflection I accepted this. “You mean that a boy who never
is----?”
“Is no boy for _me_!”
I held her tighter. “You like them with the spirit to be naughty?”
Then, keeping pace with her answer, “So do I!” I eagerly brought
out. “But not to the degree to contaminate----”
“To contaminate?”--my big word left her at a loss. I explained
it. “To corrupt.”
She stared, taking my meaning in; but it produced in her an odd
laugh. “Are you afraid he’ll corrupt _you_?” She put the
question with such a fine bold humour that, with a laugh, a little
silly doubtless, to match her own, I gave way for the time to the
apprehension of ridicule.
But the next day, as the hour for my drive approached, I cropped up in
another place. “What was the lady who was here before?”
“The last governess? She was also young and pretty--almost as young
and almost as pretty, Miss, even as you.”
“Ah, then, I hope her youth and her beauty helped her!” I recollect
throwing off. “He seems to like us young and pretty!”
“Oh, he _did_,” Mrs. Grose assented: “it was the way he liked
everyone!” She had no sooner spoken indeed than she caught herself
up. “I mean that’s _his_ way--the master’s.”