The Strict Governess

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This lady's name was Miss Birch, and although my papa had known her father, Dr. Birch, for some years, I now believe that the fascination of her name had great influence with him in making a selection from the numerous, and in many instances more ​eligible ladies, who applied for the situation.

Edward reached for the brass knob, then stopped. Though the door muffled the sound, the voice still did not seem that of the affable old Mrs. Jeffers. He would have done almost anything to avoid having to confess to her what had happened—yet what if there was another lady in there with her as well? How mortifying! His shame scarcely could be uttered. His face burned as he stood there hesitating. I've never felt inclined to write a governess story myself, perhaps because I'm quite ignorant of the institution, but this may encourage me.

My father, you know, was the Honourable Mr. Warton, and my mother died in giving birth to myself, so that I was brought up under a nurse, and afterwards, when about seven years old, a young lady was engaged as governess to instil my juvenile mind with the rudiments of learning, preparatory to being sent to a finishing school.

He averted his eyes and glanced with a furtive curiosity about the room. Soon, however, his gaze chanced again upon those Classical paintings. In one picture beautiful maidens ran laughing from a satyr, half-bare as their flowing silks blew and swirled from their rounded white limbs. Another scene showed girls bathing together in a stream, unconcerned, unashamed. In one smaller picture, a haughty nude Venus commanded a group of young men and women to kiss her feet. In the companion painting, Venus then watched over the group as they danced and kissed and cast themselves to the ground, intimately entwined… Red-faced, Edward looked away. Sir Richard turned and contemplated the well rounded and nicely present bottom before him. It was as luscious as he remembered and he wondered briefly he if he was not taking advantage. That will do. I don't want to be too hard upon Lucille this time. We will leave her to think over her disgrace and shame, and let her beware of the birch again," said Papa, taking Miss Birch's hand, to lead her from the room. "This has been a most agitating scene for your governess, who must repose in her private room for a while to recover herself."Oh, there’s no need to deny it, staring little Master Edward,” she said archly, showing a bleak smile at his discomfiture. “Surely you don’t imagine that when a chronic masturbator is sent home from school, the headmaster has not already sent ahead to London an elliptically worded letter in the early post?”