"Then came a terrible evening--"
"She ought to be a person of active habits," called Mrs. Hilary.
"I think so, yes, Cousin Mary; oh, what happened, Mr. Carter?"
"And an early riser," added Mrs. Hilary.
"Yes, Cousin Mary. What did happen, Mr. Carter?"
"My mother came in during the French hour. I don't know whether
you have observed, Miss Phyllis, how easy it is to slip into the
habit of entering rooms when you had better remain outside. Now,
even my friend Arch--However, that's neither here nor there. My
mother, as I say, came in."
"Church of England, of course, Phyllis?" called Mrs. Hilary.
"Oh, of course, cousin Mary," cried little Miss Phyllis.
"The sect makes no difference," I observed. "Well, my sisters,
like good girls, began to repeat the irregular verbs. But it was
no use. We were discovered. That night, Miss Phyllis, I nearly
drowned myself."
"You must have been--Oh, how awful, Mr. Carter!"
"That is to say, I thought how effective it would be if I drowned
myself. Ah, well, it couldn't last!"
"And the governess?"
"She left next morning."
There was a pause. Miss Phyllis looked sad and thoughtful; I
smiled pensively and beat my cane against my leg.
"Have you ever seen her since?" asked Miss Phyllis.
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