Mrs.Gallilee's answer, when he once asked why she kept such an irritable woman in the house, had been entirely satisfactory, so far as she herself was concerned: "Miss Minerva is remarkably well informed, and I get her cheap." Exactly like his mother! But it left Miss Minerva's motives involved in utter obscurity.

Why had this highly cultivated woman accepted an inadequate reward for her services, for years together?
Why--to take the event of that morning as another example--after plainly showing her temper to her employer, had she been so ready to submit to a suddenly decreed holiday, which disarranged her whole course of lessons for the week?
Little did Ovid think that the one reconciling influence which adjusted these contradictions, and set at rest every doubt that grew out of them, was to be found in himself.

Even the humiliation of watching him in his mother's interest, and of witnessing his devotion to another woman, was a sacrifice which Miss Minerva could endure for the one inestimable privilege of being in Ovid's company.
Before Carmina could ask any more questions a shrill voice, at its highest pitch of excitement, called her away.

Zo had just discovered the most amusing bird in the Gardens--the low comedian of the feathered race--otherwise known as the Piping Crow.
Carmina hurried to the cage as if she had been a child herself.

Seeing Ovid left alone, the governess seized _her_ chance of speaking to him.
The first words that passed her lips told their own story.