Part 34 (1/2)

smiled Lady Etynge, indulgently. Perhaps she was a ”Mother” person, Robin thought.

Both her looks and talk were kind, and she was very nice in her sympathetic interest in the boats and the children's efforts to sail them.

”I often bring my book here and forget to read, because I find I am watching them,” she said. ”They are so eager and so triumphant when a boat gets across the Pond.”

She went away very soon and Robin watched her out of sight with interest.

They saw her again a few days later and talked a little more. She was not always near the Pond when they came, and they naturally did not go there each time they walked together, though Fraulein Hirsch was fond of sitting and watching the children.

She had been to take tea with her former employer, she told Robin one day, and she was mildly excited by the preparations for Helene, who had been educated entirely in a French convent and was not like an English girl at all. She had always been very delicate and the nuns seemed to know how to take care of her and calm her nerves with their quiet ways.

”Her mother is rather anxious about her coming to London. She has, of course, no young friends here and she is so used to the quiet of convent life,” the Fraulein explained. ”That is why the rooms at the top of the house have been arranged for her. She will hear so little sound. I confess I am anxious about her myself. Lady Etynge is wondering if she can find a suitable young companion to live in the house with her. She must be a young lady and perfectly educated--and with brightness and charm. Not a person like myself, but one who can be treated as an equal and a friend--almost a playmate.”

”It would be an agreeable position,” commented Robin, thoughtfully.

”Extremely so,” answered Fraulein Hirsch. ”Helene is a most lovable and affectionate girl. And Lady Etynge is rich enough to pay a large salary. Helene is her idol. The suite of rooms is perfect.

In Germany, girls are not spoiled in that way. It is not considered good for them.”

It was quite natural, since she felt an interest in Helene, that, on their next meeting, Robin should find pleasure in sitting on the green bench near the girl's mother and hear her speak of her daughter. She was not diffuse or intimate in her manner. Helene first appeared in the talk as a result of a polite inquiry made by Fraulein Hirsch. Robin gathered, as she listened, that this particular girl was a tenderly loved and cared for creature and was herself gentle and intelligent and loving. She sounded like the kind of a girl one would be glad to have for a friend. Robin wondered and wondered--if she would ”do.” Perhaps, out of tactful consideration for the feelings of Fraulein Hirsch who would not ”do”--because she was neither bright, nor pretty, nor a girl--Lady Etynge touched but lightly on her idea that she might find a sort of sublimated young companion for her daughter.

”It would be difficult to advertise for what one wants,” she said.

”Yes. To state that a girl must be clever and pretty and graceful, and attractive, would make it difficult for a modest young lady to write a suitable reply,” said Fraulein Hirsch grimly, and both Lady Etynge and Robin smiled.

”Among your own friends,” Lady Etynge said to Robin, a little pathetically in her yearning, ”do you know of anyone--who might know of anyone who would fit in? Sometimes there are poor little cousins, you know?”

”Or girls who have an independent spirit and would like to support themselves,” said the Fraulein. ”There are such girls in these advanced times.”

”I am afraid I don't know anyone,” answered Robin. Modesty also prevented her from saying that she thought she did. She herself was well educated, she was good tempered and well bred, and she had known for some time that she was pretty.

”Perhaps Fraulein Hirsch may bring you in to have tea with me some afternoon when you are out,” Lady Etynge said kindly before she left them. ”I think you would like to see Helene's rooms. I should be glad to hear what another girl thinks of them.”

Robin was delighted. Perhaps this was a way opening to her. She talked to Mademoiselle Valle about it and so glowed with hope that Mademoiselle's heart was moved.

”Do you think I might go?” she said. ”Do you think there is any chance that I might be the right person? AM I nice enough--and well enough educated, and ARE my manners good?”

She did not know exactly where Lady Etynge lived, but believed it was one of those big houses in a certain dignified ”Place”

they both knew--a corner house, she was sure, because--by mere chance--she had one day seen Lady Etynge go into such a house as if it were her own. She did not know the number, but they could ask Fraulein.

Fraulein Hirsch was quite ready with detail concerning her former patroness and her daughter. She obviously admired them very much.

Her manner held a touch of respectful reverence. She described Helene's disposition and delicate nerves and the perfection of the nuns' treatment of her.

She described the beauty of the interior of the house, its luxury and convenience, and the charms of the suite of apartments prepared for Helene. She thought the number of the house was No. 97 A. Lady Etynge was the kindest employer she had ever had. She believed that Miss Gareth-Lawless and Helene would be delighted with each other, if they met, and her impression was that Lady Etynge privately hoped they would become friends.

Her mild, flat face was so modestly amiable that Mademoiselle Valle, who always felt her unattractive femininity pathetic, was a little moved by her evident pleasure in having been the humble means of providing Robin with acquaintances of an advantageous kind.

No special day had been fixed upon for the visit and the cup of tea.

Robin was eager in secret and hoped Lady Etynge would not forget to remind them of her invitation.