Behind A Mask Or, A Woman`s Power

Jean Muir

*Has she come?*

*No, Mamma, not yet.*

*I wish it were well over. The thought of it worries and excites me. A cushion for my back, Bella.*And poor, peevish Mrs. Coventry sank into an easy chair with a nervous sigh and the air of a martyr, while her pretty daughter hovered about her with affectionate solicitude.*Who are they talking of, Lucia?* asked the languid young man lounging on a couch near his cousin, who bent over her tapestry work with a happy smile on her usually haughty face.*The new governess, Miss Muir. Shall I tell you about her?*

*No, thank you. I have an inveterate aversion to the whole tribe. I’ve often thanked heaven that I had but one sister, and she a spoiled child, so that I have escaped the infliction of a governess so long.*2