The Education of Portia Read Free Page B

everyone who attended here had the most wonderful times, and learned more
than they could have imagined. Mansion House School seemed a quite perfect answer to our
needs."
    "When he was at home in the summer we plagued him the entire time, pleaded and
begged." Melicent said with smug satisfaction. "We were determined to come south with him.
He soon agreed."
    Portia thought that it would take someone experienced indeed in the ways of children to
withstand the machinations of these three. She hoped her own knowledge was sufficient to the
task. A chuckle threatened her composure; she turned it into a cough. "I am very happy that we
may be of service. I think though that I had rather have pupils come to me because they wish to
learn what we have here to teach." She tranquilly drank her tea, and allowed her words to be
digested.
    "Oh we do want to learn!" Sabina was quick to understood the delicate criticism and
even quicker to counter it.
    "Miss Thripton doesn't teach German or astronomy," said Melicent, proving that she had
studied the curriculum of the school. She chewed the fragments of her tart thoughtfully.
    "Yet Miss Thripton may suffer because of your attendance here. Did that occur to you?
Why should your father continue to employ her if you are here at school?"
    Penelope's round eyes grew yet more round. "He wouldn't...he couldn't. Oh, Mith
Crothmichael, he would not send her away, would he?"
    Even Melicent looked concerned.
    Sabina said, with a worried frown, "We have been selfish. She seemed so supportive, so
certain that we were right in wanting to be nearby to Papa." She set her teacup on the Pembroke
table that sat beside the sopha on which she perched.
    "I think Miss Thripton would put your needs beyond her own interests. But perhaps a
letter to your father asking if you have endangered Miss Thripton's livelihood might be in order."
Portia made her suggestion with a show of disinterest.
    She was rewarded by an immediate response.
    "Yes!" Sabina rose.
    "Oh yeth." Penelope's lisp seemed quite uncontrollable, sometimes much in evidence,
sometimes unnoticeable. She hurried to the door without requesting permission.
    "May we be excused?" Melicent was the only one to recall her manners.
    "You may." Portia watched the girls hurry out. Sabina followed her younger sisters and
closed the door carefully behind them.
    She had poured herself a second cup of tea when the door reopened. Penelope's small
dark-haired head appeared around the edge. "If we are nearby to Papa though, surely he must
come, do you not think?" she asked.
    "I cannot imagine that he would stay away," Portia said, her reassurance genuine. She
would herself see that the viscount visited his delightful offspring, if she had to.
    * * * *
    When the Perrington girls had been with her three weeks, Portia began to wonder if
indeed she would have to summon the viscount to visit his daughters. She mentioned the matter
at the regular Friday afternoon meeting of her teaching staff attended by the dancing master, the
local rector who instructed in Latin and religious studies, the arithmetic and natural sciences'
mistress, the long time needlework and pianoforte mistress, the languages' mistress, and of
course Portia's brother. All the young ladies of the school were encouraged to undertake quiet
pursuits overseen by the matron and housekeeper while their teachers held their discussions in
Portia's study.
    "Does anyone know if the daughters of Lord Stadbroke have received a communication
from their father?" Portia asked. She looked at the paper before her upon which she had been
making notes. At an earlier meeting with her housekeeping staff, she had approved the purchase
of two new sets of linen and had informed the cook that though the students' dislike of mutton
was indeed reprehensible, they must replace mutton stew with some other dish. Just moments
ago she had sanctioned a new course of advanced mathematics which Miss Gamston highly
recommended. Her tidy handwriting