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Updated: May 24, 2025
Eyton-Eyton turned upon Mary. "Oh, you little fool!" The rebuke that should have been taken with downcast eyes, murmured apologies, was otherwise received. "Mrs. Eyton! How dare you call me a fool!" Pause of blank amazement; sago-messed table-napkin in the scented hand; sago creeping down the silken skirt. That a nursery governess not even a servant should so presume! "Miss Humfray!
A few pounds in her purse, and infinitely worse off now than a week before. Then she had no "character"; now employment was to be sought with Mrs. Eyton-Eyton as her "last place." She would not go back to Missus and Tim. Though they had tried to conceal it, secretly, she had seen, they were relieved when she left.
Nursery governess was a comprehensive word in the Eyton-Eyton vocabulary; covered every duty that in a nursery must be performed. One must do the nursery fire, sweep the nursery floor, bring up and carry down the nursery meals servants, you see, object to waiting upon one whom, as Mrs. Eyton-Eyton with a careless laugh pointed out, they regard as one of themselves.
Miss Ram at the Agency would have no more to do with her; had received a furious letter from Mrs. Eyton-Eyton; showed in the ledger a cruel line of red ink ruled through the page that began "Name: Mary Humfray," and ended "Salary: " "But I don't know a soul in London." "You had a very comfortable place. You threw it away. I have a reputation for reliable employees which I cannot afford to risk."
Eyton-Eyton paid to the nursery one of her rare visits, beautifully gowned, the hired victoria waiting to take her a round of calls. Lunch, delayed not to disturb the midday sleep of Masters Thomas and Richard Eyton-Eyton, was not cleared Master Thomas still struggling with a plate of sago pudding. Betwixt her children Mrs.
Eyton-Eyton beautifully gowned, hired victoria in waiting took her seat; Mary hovered behind and catastrophe swooped. Master Thomas grabbed for a glass of milk; Mary strove to restrain him. There was an awkward struggle, her elbow or his caught the plate of pudding, tipped the sticky mass into the silken lap of Mrs. Eyton-Eyton, beautifully gowned, hired victoria in waiting. Infuriated, Mrs.
"Miss Humfray, a lady will see you." ... "Oh, too young far too young." ... "Thank you, that will do, Miss Humfray." ... "Oh, not my style at all." ... "Thank you, that will do, Miss Humfray." On the Spot. Fortunately On the Spot one day a Mrs. Eyton-Eyton, as nursery governess, Streatham. For a week very much On the Spot with Mrs. Eyton-Eyton.
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