`Dancing and French gloves.'
`Well, I think Truth is a very silly play; let's have a sensible game of Authors, to refresh our minds,' proposed Jo.
Ned, Frank, and the little girls joined in this, and while it went on the three elder sat apart talking. Miss Kate took out her sketch again, and Margaret watched her, while Mr. Brooke lay on the grass, with a book which he did not read.
`How beautifully you do it! I wish I could draw,' said Meg, with mingled admiration and regret in her voice.
`Why don't you learn? I should think you had taste and talent for it,' replied Miss Kate, graciously.
`I haven't time.'
`Your mamma prefers other accomplishments, I fancy. So did mine; but I proved to her that I had talent by taking a few lessons privately, and then she was quite willing I should go on. Can't you do the same with your governess?'
`I have none.'
`I forgot; young ladies in America go to school more than with us. Very fine schools they are, too, papa says. You go to a private one, I suppose?'
`I don't go at all; I am a governess myself.'
`Oh, indeed!' said Miss Kate; but she might as well have said, `Dear me, how dreadful!' for her tone implied it, and something in her face made Meg colour, and wish she had not been so frank.
Mr. Brooke looked up, and said quickly, `Young ladies in America love independence as much as their ancestors did, and are admired and respected for supporting themselves.'
`Oh, yes; of course it's very nice and proper in them to do so. We have many most respectable and worthy young women who do the same, and are employed by the nobility, because, being the daughters of gentlemen, they are both well-bred and accomplished, you know,' said Miss Kate in a patronising tone, that hurt Meg's pride, and made her work seem not only more distasteful, but degrading.
`Did the German song suit, Miss March?' inquired Mr. Brooke, breaking an awkward pause.
`Oh yes; it was very sweet, and I'm much obliged to whoever translated it for me'; and Meg's downcast face brightened as she spoke.
`Don't you read German?' asked Miss Kate, with a look of surprise.
`Not very well. My father, who taught me, is away, and I don't get on very fast alone, for I've no one to correct my pronunciation.'
`Try a little now; here is Schiller's Mary Stuart, an a tutor who loves to teach,' and Mr. Brooke laid his book on her lap, with an inviting smile.
`It's so hard, I'm afraid to try,' said Meg, grateful, but bashful in the presence of the accomplished young lady beside her.
`I'll read a bit to encourage you'; and Miss Kate read one of the most beautiful passages in a perfectly correct but perfectly expressionless manner.
Mr. Brooke made no comment as she returned the book to Meg, who said innocently: